Heroes of the Desk: Repercussions
by SovereignGFC
Summary: The lid has been blown off a secretive group that has kept the world ignorant of stranger happenings for millennia. Characters thought to be pixels in a video game have come to life with their own personalities, priorities, and problems, leading many to ask what will happen to society with these revelations.
1. Game On

A/N: Well, here goes nothing. Let's hope it can live up to the last one!

 **Chapter 1 – Game On**

"Oh, that is _not_ cool…"

Raynor, shorn of his heavy armor (carefully locked up in secure storage along with any other Hero knick-knacks) mashed the "R" key as hard as he could. Not that multiple pushes made _Hyperion_ 's strafing runs any better, but there was a certain feeling that came with setting off these abilities.

"Are you guys gonna help, or what?" he yelled.

"Yeah yeah, chill out!" replied Li Li.

Regardless of whether they'd saved the world, upended the world, or something else, the Heroes (some called them "Blizzards") were taking a well-deserved break. By playing the video game that indirectly birthed them in their current forms. Set up in a room isolated from their opponents, Raynor, Li Li, Johanna, Jaina, and Sonya matched up against Nova, Kerrigan, Malfurion, Diablo, and Brightwing.

"This map's weird" Raynor said at the beginning of the match. Now, not only were the Heroes fighting amongst themselves, but the arena announcers (Grave Keeper/Raven Lord) were having a spat too. Of course, nobody ever "won" permanently, but that was the way video games were.

Raynor found himself outnumbered, hence calling down the _Hyperion_ —it had been him, Johanna, and Jaina doing very well fighting Malfurion and Diablo. Then Brightwing popped to Diablo's side, polymorphed Jaina right as her abilities came off cooldown, Malfurion rooted the crab representing Jaina, and Diablo followed through with an overpower that threw Raynor far enough away that he found himself being focused.

"Aw, crap…"

"Might I suggest dodging?"

Off to the Hall of Storms for thirty-or-so seconds.

Jaina's icon appeared on the respawn bar as well. Johanna barely escaped, but wasn't foolish enough to re-engage at 10% HP against three mostly-healthy enemies. She even had to use Blessed Shield to get them off her tail.

"You are no longer welcome here, Raven Lord!"

The game see-sawed back and forth for another five minutes before Raynor's team finally emerged victorious—though not without their own core taking damage (six hitpoints left).

Valla skulked around outside—she was allowed to watch but after the last match in which she'd quite literally broken her keyboard in a fit of rage, it had been "suggested" she not be permitted to play anymore. Not that she was any _less_ angry watching matches, _especially_ when someone picked her character. Regardless of whether that player made good or bad calls, she rained a torrent of verbal abuse in the direction of a large viewscreen on which matches were shown.

"Even drunk Tychus isn't this bad" breathed Raynor out of the Demon Hunter's earshot.

"They're trying to figure out a way to help her" replied Nova, "but the Faustus combined with stuff from her universe in a really nasty way."

Johanna walked the two tech-oriented Heroes through what, exactly, Demon Hunters were.

"Unfortunately, that makes it very likely she may be unbalanced for good" the Crusader concluded sadly. "Once one like that loses discipline, it is extraordinarily difficult to reign in the hatred."


	2. Why So Serious?

**Chapter 2 – Why So Serious?**

"You actually want to do this. You're not just trying to see what we'll say?"

Raynor found himself the unofficial spokesperson of the Heroes group as Jaina remained perpetually tied up in trying to make sure three new wars didn't break out.

"Well, why this happens isn't going to solve itself." May Linda, despite being chastised for her overly-idealistic view of SPEAR (rename pending), remained a highly-qualified scientist. Along with Bruce Wane and now Laura Kraft, the trio were responsible for evaluating the groan-worthy "Hero Origination Technology."

Several fused filament fabrication machines stood on nearby tables, including that which produced Raynor and company. Figuring out "Rosa Morales" had been more complicated than expected due to part overlap (visual trickery in games hid meshes that were either one layer thick or collided with each other) but clever 3D modeling work surmounted the obstacles. At least the Heroes' description of Sonya's creation affirmed the model had to neither be painted nor assembled with any great sense of accuracy. To this end, all the machines were creating parts of a character created specifically for _Heroes of the Storm_ (unlike, say, Zeratul, who had extensive backstory previously).

Unfortunately, despite exhaustive measurements and complicated instruments recording every moment, as Lieutenant Morales asked that someone "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the science trio was no closer to understanding exactly what turned plastic into living tissue which then grew to "standard" human size in an embiggering chamber.

"The shrinking and growing, we get that" griped Wane. "But the other part…"

"It can't be any weirder than healing a zombie. That makes no sense to me, and I sling nanomachines for a living!" she'd said.

"Stitches" Raynor clarified, as the science trio did not seem the "gaming" sort. He pulled up a description of the character on a nearby tablet.

"Yuck!" cried Dr. Linda.

"Yeah, let's… _not_ …create that one" said Dr. Wane. "I'd take this guy over the zombie…" He'd swiped to a photo of Illidan.

Raynor glared at him.

"Do you people even _read_ the descriptions?"

Jaina found herself interrupted, again. Seeing as half her tasks consisted of navigating the bureaucracies of the world, she secretly relished the chance to take a break.

"You gotta talk some sense into these blockheads!" protested Raynor. "They've got _Illidan_ on their list!"

"Don't ask _me_ " she replied irritably. "Malfurion can much more dramatically explain why this is a no good, horrible, rotten, very bad idea! I am utterly unprepared to address the topic at present, and I can't even…"

Jaina departed in a huff. Taking a breather from weighty issues wasn't supposed to entail _another_ whale-sized item being dropped on her head.

"Maybe if we suggest someone else…" thought Raynor aloud. "I miss Artanis…"

Printer workers and modelers busied themselves with the intricacies of Protoss armor after receiving a suggestion "endorsed by many of us Heroes" (though Diablo was conspicuously absent from the list) that Artanis, relatively new to _Heroes of the Storm_ , be pushed to the front of the print queue.

"I snuck a look at their notes" confided Nova to the assembled group over dinner, "and they've been stamping out characters left and right without telling us! At least five!" She showed them photos and names.

Upon reading one of them, Jaina practically tossed her tray.

"Seriously?" She stomped off, for all the world resembling an irritated schoolgirl forced to be lab partners with a spurned crush.

"Okay then…" It appeared science personnel weren't the only ones who didn't read Hero biographies as Nova had to have Jaina's behavior explained, after which she rolled her eyes.


	3. Newton's Third Law

**Chapter 3 – Newton's Third Law**

"While these so-called Heroes come from universes where somehow, nobody talks about the _damage_ that massive conflicts they are involved in cause, here in _reality_ we are faced with an act so beyond comprehension that it puts 9/11 to shame."

In fact, more people died than September 11th, Pearl Harbor, and all terrorist attacks since the Oklahoma City bombing _put together_ when blue plasma rained from the sky.

"There was nothing we could have done" said Johanna solemnly when interviewed by a battery of major news channels. "We did not attack SPEAR. We did not attack WET. They _chose_ to use weapons of unbelievable destructive power in ways that defy any morality I know of."

"The ship whose destruction they sought could have been hit with minimal damage to the surrounding area" added Nova, speaking from a position of expertise on high-level bombardments. "There was absolutely no reason to use a wide-dispersal pattern."

"Or, they could have tried to talk about it instead of shooting" finished Jaina bitterly. Though she'd helped keep the peace _since_ , that did nothing for those who stood vigil outside what remained of the Anaheim Convention Center.

The Board and Heroes insisted emphatically that "nobody will escape responsibility" for what could only be dubbed an act of mass murder. The mood in the country, though, favored action over words. This became especially apparent when weeks dragged into months without even so much as a name (to plaster on signs) or face (to burn in effigy). It became popular for political candidates to promise that "my administration will seek the death penalty, once we know who to send the SWAT after." More hawkish responses replaced "SWAT" with "Marines," "Special Forces," "Delta," or similar.

"And if they happen to not make it into custody alive, well, that's just bad luck!" said one particularly bombastic personality.

Divisions within SPEAR sharpened drastically—already uncomfortable with the Weaponized Extraction Teams, there were those who now felt safe openly agitating for not only their abolition but the destruction of SPEAR itself.

 _Steadfast Samurai_ was withdrawn from service for "investigative purposes." Its name and image were not widely known, so this change went unnoticed by the world at large.

A loose group calling itself the "Direct Repercussion Investigators" began gathering currency within SPEAR. Their stated mission? "Fight for the lost."

"We are lost!" thundered many a religious figure. Though many faiths dealt in events that met the dictionary definition of supernatural (such as miracles or resurrections), recent events caused much dissension in the ranks. Already reeling from losses to what was considered to be against godly creed, churches in the United States now found themselves up against something that made the previously-mentioned events seem pedestrian by comparison. Many thought experiments wondered what the reaction would be from faith communities were life to be found on other planets (possibly defying the story of Creation); the revelation of what essentially qualified as magic made these discussions very relevant.

Three camps emerged: ignore the whole thing entirely, try to live with the presence of Functional Supernatural Phenomena, and "stuff the genie back into the bottle, then sink the bottle to the bottom of the ocean where it came from." As with most arguments surrounding topics of a religious nature, heated words were exchanged but nobody packed heat. Still, it did lead to odd allies of convenience between some of the last group and a certain subset of personnel inside SPEAR…


	4. Roommates

**Chapter 4 – Roommates**

Sonya crashed about seeking the source of her annoyance—and found it in Jaina, whose ring of frost froze all the furniture in the communal area. And lowered temperatures across the living space.

"It is freezing in here!" the barbarian complained. "Must you create more snow?"

"This is just depressing." The sorceress handed over a half-frozen tablet.

Sonya's face furrowed, her lips twisted in annoyance, then anger.

"Yes. It is. But I do not see how that demands we all must sulk in the cold!"

"You could just adjust the thermostat" said Nova, her tone suggesting she thought everyone else stupid for not doing this.

"You always were second-best" replied Kerrigan, who made a big show of using both hands and zerg wings to turn a dial already set to 84 degrees Fahrenheit, the highest it would go. "Doesn't have a hotter setting."

Malfurion solved the problem for himself, though that had a side-effect of creating a mass of plants in a large radius as he cocooned himself in.

Sylvanas sauntered by.

"Is she _whistling?_ " asked a befuddled Raynor.

"This cold you speak of—I have no idea what you're talking about!" said the undead elf before shutting herself in her room. Raynor threw up his hands at her smirk.

"Well, at least my beer isn't warm!" said Gazlowe, trying to find something positive. "I mean, the beer that I left out for an hour…"

"You'd just create something to keep it chilled for three anyway" replied Raynor out the side of his mouth.

"I can probably tell you why Miss Pouty is so happy" interrupted Rosa Morales. "Didn't take much to inject her with a nano-serum that actively cancels out her, um…distinctive body odor." She continued muttering something about "how all you people think warzones are pretty and orderly— _it's because we keep you in one piece!_ "

"How 'bout we get Red in here? That might heat things up!"

Withering glares caused Raynor to immediately back down.

"I will suffer the cold before I suffer his presence" replied Sonya. Her resulting stance almost resembled Sylvanas.

Not all Heroes lived in a block of apartment-style dwellings inside Down Under; Diablo didn't fit and Brightwing preferred one of the base's artificial habitats. For those that did, though, the typical "roommate squabbles" ensued over everything from Raynor being too cheerful in the morning to Kerrigan's tendency to leave messes in the bathroom.

Then there was Valla.

"And when I say _she_ sulks and is antisocial, well, that really means something!" concluded Sylvanas, upon describing the Demon Hunter (in absence, of course).


	5. I Hate You a Bunch Right Now

**Chapter 5 – I Hate You a Bunch Right Now**

Smashed corpses of stress-relief balls littered Valla's room. Her plate armor bestowed by Bokat-Anne Vizsla through the Weaponized Extraction Teams was no longer in her possession, nor was the combat shotgun she'd reappropriated from a WET heavy trooper. She had also been assigned various exercises to calm her mind. That is, until those administering said exercises realized Valla used what was supposed to calm her to fuel her insatiable rage instead.

That was where it had been suggested to let her play _Heroes of the Storm_.

This, too, ended badly. That she had been briefed along with other Heroes on the current state of affairs vis-à-vis the remnants of WET only added fuel to the fire.

"Why is he still living?" she'd asked, eerily calm, upon hearing that George Sulu had been placed in confinement. "For his crimes, that man's life should be ended in the most unpleasant fashion possible."

She then went on a lengthy, detailed, and almost lusting description of how she thought his death sentence should be carried out.

Dr. Kara Grimes, who'd worked with Nova Terra previously, found herself assigned to the Demon Hunter since even that tiny amount of experience with a "real-life character" made her more qualified than anyone else.

"There's not much good news here" she'd written in her notes. "Valla can control herself to some degree—she's not prone to unprovoked violent outbursts. But once something sets her off, it is best to have stun rounds ready. She also has an obsession with the idea of killing anyone involved with the Weaponized Extraction Teams, with a special fixation on those responsible for creating Faustus Serum."

Grimes struggled to understand her new patient's background. Unlike Nova on whom extensive writing had been done, there existed only one short story detailing a part of Valla's life. With the deaths of many responsible for the creation of these fictional universes under the guns of _Steadfast Samurai_ , it was highly unlikely anything new would be written in the future. It might not even matter, since the relationship between background (fictional here but very real to the Heroes) and present remained unclear—would changing something in a Hero's past as depicted in the "real world" affect them now?

Batteries of tests confirmed Valla was in fact a fully-realized person with a personality, belief system, and an unhealthy obsession with violence.

"Technically, we could try Faustus or other types of Functional Supernatural Phenomena." Grimes was hesitant to even bring this up, but she had been asked for solutions, no matter how unpleasant.

"That seems ridiculous on its face" replied a colleague. "Faustus _caused_ the problem—trying to use it as a fix strikes me as questionable from an efficacy standpoint and morally repugnant. Especially since we're supposed to be better than those thugs in the WET division."

"I was just answering the question" shot back Grimes. "I would no more support using it on her again than you. As to why Faustus failed on Nova Terra—I think I finally have an answer to that. It broke _itself_. To shape the mind that deeply, to allow this much control, the whole consciousness has to be opened, even the parts the mind rejected or buried long ago. Bringing those memories back in a surge overwhelmed everything else and ironically left the patient with few signs of emotional trauma despite her past. It burned itself out."

Video feeds of Valla showed that the Demon Hunter now subjected herself to brutal calisthenics every day. With no outlet for her rage, she instead honed her already-toned body to even greater levels of strength, as much as one could without the assistance of exercise equipment.

"Have we ordered confinement?" asked another colleague, this one a woman with whom Grimes had worked with on several occasions in the past. "She doesn't leave her room most days!"

"We have not" replied the man who'd initially questioned Grimes. "She stays voluntarily. And this isn't the WET version of volunteer, either."

"It is intriguing to me that despite her supposed lack of discipline she certainly seems to exhibit it in some ways" said Grimes. "It's just the discipline to keep herself from lashing out that escapes control."

"So does anyone have any _non-crazy_ ideas on how to help her?"

Dejected stares all around.


	6. Advancement Ambassador

**Chapter 6 – Advancement Ambassador**

After extensive training, including many mock sessions with personnel inside SPEAR, Li Li Stormstout finally got a chance to take her message to the world. She'd practiced how to handle the many "types" of "outsider"—among others were listed the Unaware, the Skeptic, the Scientist, the Faithful, the Conspirator, and the Superfan.

She worked best with the Unaware and the Superfan, followed by the Scientist. Talking with the Faithful, Skeptic, or Conspirator (shudder) made her wish she could emulate Valla. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to as Johanna would be on hand as the "force" to Li Li's "moderation" should it become necessary.

"It's not as awesome as you think" she explained to a role-player of the Superfan. "The capabilities you listed do exist, but there are consequences to them. Remember the Saturday morning cartoons you told me about earlier? How you always liked the Mighty Ducks or Beast Wars? See, the difference here is that the heroes don't just get to walk away from a wrecked city or destroyed neighborhood. They're responsible for it, even as awesome as it was to have the Migrator bomb those baddies."

Earlier, Li Li managed to get some time with Jaina to work on how to address the three types she'd fared worst with.

"You can't fight the frame" Jaina began. "It's extremely hard to change someone's frame of reference, so if their whole worldview is anchored to a single point—often the case with your trouble-trio, you have to work around it. Or better yet, find a way to get the information you need to pass on to fit _inside_ their views."

"So if I get someone to think what I said actually isn't as bad for them as they think, it sits better?"

"Well" replied Jaina, "the best way to do it would be to convince them that they came to the conclusion, on their own, that Functional Supernatural Phenomena are both real and make sense within how they think of the world. The strongest, hardest-to-displace ideas are often the ones a person believe he or she has come up with independently, even if they were subtly suggested by someone else."

It was decided to start Li Li off easy—she would speak in a "town hall" (phrase borrowed from the ongoing political food fight in the United States) consisting mostly of children at a library. Most children fell into Superfan or mild Skeptic categories, but being kids, were easier to convince.

The parents would prove to be another matter entirely.

What started as a mostly-friendly banter with youngsters who were more concerned how this real-world "magic" was related to "Harry Potter" devolved into a shouting match between angry parents as some fed off questions asked by kids to inject their own thoughts despite being repeatedly warned to remain quiet.

"This stops _here!_ "

Shorn of the game-imposed requirement that it could only hit three targets, Johanna's shield sent at least a dozen adults onto their bottoms.

Local news played the clip over and over. YouTube didn't help either. "Dirty Dozen" references, no matter how forced, popped up too.

"Well, that could have been worse" said Johanna afterward. "At least the violence was stemmed before it could get out of hand."

Technically, Li Li was supposed to be trained to handle such a situation. To be fair, expecting her to defuse a bunch of arguing adults on her _first assignment_ wasn't reasonable, so she was not reprimanded or held responsible for the escalation.

"I just had no idea people could get so _angry_ " she commented later. "I mean, facts are facts, right?"


	7. Above the Glass, Below is Turmoil

**Chapter 7 – Above the Glass, Below is Turmoil**

Valla seethed in her quarters. She wanted, oh so very much, to wrap her hands around George Sulu's neck. To slowly, excruciatingly wring the life from him for what he'd done. As a Demon Hunter, she had already clothed herself in the raiments of hellspawn, worn their very skins and used their own sharpened bones to pierce their skulls. Adopting their tactics against the deserving seemed a simple extension.

A chime rang.

"Dr. Grimes, how pleasant to see you."

On one level, Valla was simply hiding her burning rage under a veneer of calm. At the same time, she dearly hoped maybe if she lived it, she could become it and be free of this urge to slaughter, to maim, to kill. Well, at least have her former levels of control over it. She'd settle for that. After all, as a Demon Hunter, she'd never once let the fury meant for demons leak into interactions with others. Now, she'd snapped at scientists, made very public statements about filling rivers with blood, and cracked a keyboard in half.

Kara Grimes tried her best to conceal how creeped-out Valla made her. A not-so-subtle shift to speaking entirely normally, without the undercurrent of "What can I kill next today?" over the course of maybe a week. Never mind how Valla's voice could become disturbingly attractive if she wanted something, regardless of the target's professed orientation on such matters.

"You haven't destroyed any stress balls in two days, that's a plus" she said as a way to start conversation. She winced at the awkwardness.

"Well, it accomplishes nothing" replied Valla. "Besides, I have to be on my best behavior if I want to attend the Hall of Fallen Heroes."

Since the destruction of the Anaheim Convention Center, this combination memorial/celebration would be held at the Business Expo Center instead. All proceeds were going to the Anaheim Memorial Fund, which was dedicated to supporting the families of those killed by _Steadfast Samurai_ 's bombardment. It would also be where the Strategic Prevention, Extraction, and Ablation Regiment would unveil its new name.

Grimes hated this situation. On one hand, she could see through Valla's acting. Yet, she could also sense the sincerity behind the woman's new attitude. Maybe if given the chance, she'd be able to turn the page. Besides, it would be very obvious if one of the Heroes was missing from an event like this. Valla had even requested assistance choosing clothing to wear, which, considering that none of the Heroes were exactly fashion experts, was an interesting development. Grimes guessed Valla was taking this "create a new reality" shtick as far as she could—only in action movies did women run around in designer dresses while wielding shotguns and taking out bad guys.

Reluctantly, she wrote "I, Dr. Kara Grimes, authorize Valla's participation in the Hall of Fallen Heroes event on the condition she remains in good standing until the date on which the ceremony occurs."

[…]

"This is not my job" complained Tyrande Whisperwind. "Maiev Shadowsong would have been better at this!"

Still, she and Thrall worked with a reluctant Kael'thas Sunstrider to keep Leoric in line. Given that he could "wraith walk" through most types of physical containment, it took magic ("functional supernatural phenomena" said the big humans) to lock him up. Even then, he schemed and plotted ways to "punish the traitors" who "betrayed their King."

Upon first being created by the Hero Origination Technology (the name stuck even though it was technically an FSP), Tyrande and Kael'thas, despite their established differences, had similar reactions to their awakening: disbelief followed by annoyance. Kael'thas especially took poorly to being ordered around, until he was forcibly shown his place.

"Fire consume you!" he roared. Except his grapefruit-sized fireball met its match in the form of an ordinary fire extinguisher wielded by a bored lab technician.

"Yeah, yeah" she said, as if she'd seen this sort of thing before. "Brandon and I have handled far worse than you, so get over yourself, little man!"

His attempt to send the "insolent" Sarah Ahmason flying worked…on her mug. Which broke as it fell, sending a piece of a photo depicting a brown-haired woman named "Rey" (as written on the mug) skittering to his feet. He cast flame spells again and again, but saw nothing for his efforts other than minor scoring on gloves that had been subjected to the heat of an angry Diablo. She grabbed the protesting former blood elf and stuffed him in a cage.

"Serves him right" said Tyrande indignantly. "I may find this whole new world ridiculous, but it is no more so than his attitude!"

For her cooperation, Tyrande Whisperwind found herself placed in charge of controlling Leoric. Thrall, at least, didn't fight battles that couldn't be won. And the notion of ensuring Leoric stayed contained actually seemed rather reasonable given her experience with "The Black King" on various battlegrounds.

"I have overheard we are not alone" Thrall confided in her later. "There are others like us, who remember both fighting in those…strange lands…and the places we came from. But they are the same size as those who hold us captive!"


	8. Blue Pill

**Chapter 8 – Blue Pill**

"You're sure we can't change your mind?"

Li Li couldn't keep herself from doing what had been termed "puppy eyes" by adoring doctors at SPEAR, trying to convince their friend to stay.

"Look, my life used to be pretty simple. Work, _Heroes of the Storm_ , and…other stuff. Not being hit with traps straight out of _Home Alone_ , or being robbed repeatedly. Or having to deal with the supernatural that seems to be determined to top itself each time something new is introduced."

Pause.

"Oh! And having my vidoegames come to life! There definitely wasn't that!"

"Oh, so we're not cool enough for you anymore?" sassed Nova with a wink. "What are you playing now, _Mass Effect?_ "

The Ghost couldn't technically talk about this one, having spent hours playing as "Nova Shepard," Infiltrator and mostly "renegade."

"I…" Another awkward pause.

"I just can't take this! What am I supposed to do? Where do I go?"

"That's why we're here!" enthused Li Li. "You could work with us!"

"Based on what you showed me, I'd have fewer restrictions on my life if I worked for the CIA or something. No thanks."

"Everyone must walk their own path, Li Li" said Jaina. "We cannot choose it for them." She leaned over. "As much as I agree with you."

"Well, that kinda stinks" added Raynor later after their friend had been taken away for "memory reprocessing."

"Don't worry" said a passing scientist who introduced herself as "Anna." "We'll leave the fun—you won't be forgotten, not entirely. When the mind drifts off to sleep, you'll be the first thing that comes up. They can always find you there as you are now."

Somehow, this only made the Heroes sadder. At least their own recollections wouldn't be altered, though they were repeatedly warned not to share them with anyone.

"Like anyone would believe us?" asked Nova. "People already have a hard enough time accepting that I can do this!"

She vanished, then reappeared.

One last duty awaited the Heroes—collecting everything they could have possibly left behind at their old residence. Where Kerrigan and Sylvanas' various broods went, no one knew. It was hoped against hope that neither would prove ecologically disruptive. Such cleanup also included the towers Valla and Gazlowe constructed, as it was possible they might contain "residual FSP signatures" that could resurface memories when touched. Speaking of Valla, even she was present for the send-off, leading Nova to comment "I didn't think Demon Hunters knew what hugs were."

Only one person felt the barely-concealed quivering that shook Valla's whole body, a beast struggling mightily to escape the lid that had been crammed on it. And that person's memory would soon be changed.

"This shouldn't have happened" she whispered. "They will pay."

A look of confusion, and their friend turned away for the last time.

Li Li and several others took a leave of absence the next day.


	9. Where No Human Has Gone Before

A/N: Look up Uncle Max from Calvin & Hobbes—that's why I got rid of the Player. Writing significant additional story around an Ageless-Faceless-Gender-Neutral-Culturally-Ambiguous-Adventure-Person in a character-driven, dialogue-heavy narrative isn't something I want to do as this is all about the Heroes—the Player just helped facilitate it. Now s/he can get out of the story and out of my hair!

 **Chapter 9 – Where No Human Has Gone Before**

"Well, it's a good thing all the Weaponized Extraction Teams were forced to stand down" commented Dr. James-Johnson Arbat, having been reassigned to a science team as Atlantis imploded. After completing a doctorate in theoretical physics, he'd been pulled into SPEAR through connections made in his undergraduate film studies.

"They'd hate us for trying this stuff again."

Film students understood the worlds they created would likely never become reality, since most blockbusters could have their legitimate scientific elements counted on one hand. With fingers missing. However, under the purview of SPEAR and its Functional Supernatural Phenomena, Arbat found himself being asked if he wanted to turn what had been special effects into an actual, factual device.

Columnists the world over spilled millions of words on how it "took long enough" for AEON to do anything of note. To be entirely fair, the WET "stand-down" happened very quickly after the "incident" in Anaheim, but it only became public knowledge once SPEAR officially became AEON at a special ceremony honoring the fallen caused by WET's savagery. The other reaction, naturally, was "Why didn't you say so sooner?"

AEON hoped the public could be distracted by some cool new science, mainly wormholes. The popular media called it "teleportation" though that wasn't technically what was going on. Announced as "the first step into a world of near-instant transportation," it wasn't _technically_ true that "nobody" had used wormholes before. It was just that this would be the first time anyone came back (or so it was hoped).

The equations of general relativity had predicted the existence of such items, but modern science proved unable to create conditions under which these theories could be tested until advanced technologies and Functional Supernatural Phenomena emerged from the vaults of SPEAR/AEON. Now, Arbat led a team that would take a fresh look at "space-warp transit technology." Previous attempts ran into a small problem—other universes. Hence the reluctance of anyone on a Weaponized Extraction Team to deal with "those hellholes."

"That was twenty years ago" huffed Arbat. "Computers, even ours, were much less advanced then. With more precise control over our warp factor, we should be able to avoid intersection events!"

Untempered by caution and filled with an almost childish exuberance, science teams eager to put their untested formulae painstakingly crafted over two decades into action started with "cargo-sized" wormholes rather than the old procedure of moving marbles first. It was completely against procedure, but voices of caution were overridden by giddy excitement.

"I can retire happy now!" came from more than one older physicist who'd seen their life's work apparently rendered moot by WET's ban on wormhole research years ago.

"Yeah, and if WET were around, they'd kill us" replied others. "But they're not! We can actually focus on non-militarized science now, be the explorers we've always hoped to be."

[…]

The lack of scruples and failure to follow proper procedure wasn't limited to the wormhole division. Despite having relatively free reign, as much as one could being fourteen inches tall, Tyrande, Thrall, Kael'thas and Leoric found themselves inexplicably stuffed into carry cages.

"We want to run some tests before we embigger you" said the voice holding Tyrande's cage. She recognized it as belonging to the same Sarah Ahmason who'd put Kael'thas in his place.

"Why?" demanded the Sentinel. "There has been no interest in bringing us up to your stature!"

The elf received no answer, but could tell they were being taken somewhere. Sarah and Brandon had often complained within earshot of how large "Down Under" was, and this bore out in what seemed to be at least a twenty minute walk. Morales, having been taken away for just this purpose, returned in less than half the time, so Tyrande suspected this wasn't what it seemed.

 _THUMP_.

The quartet of cages hit a solid floor.

"To take out this monstrosity, we will need monsters of our own" proclaimed a new voice. "And it appears our insiders in the science division have delivered!"

Simultaneous with those words, the small Heroes found their prisons unlocked and tipped forward. They landed in a heap.

"I apologize for the drama" continued the unseen voice, "but even in the… _repentant_ attitude that has swept over the Strategic Prevention, Extraction, and Ablation Regiment, we are considered…unusual."

Benedict Pious had been assigned to Atlantis very deliberately. His psychological profile showed that he would become a liability in situations where people were called upon to "do what had to be done." Now, he sought to atone both for his own involvement with SPEAR and to punish those who still served it.

"The Direct Repercussion Investigators will do what neither SPEAR nor WET ever managed: hold people accountable for misuse of Functional Supernatural Phenomena. While we agree with the core tenant stemming from Rome, those who are charged with protecting the world must also be protected from themselves. At this, SPEAR failed."

"What do you want from us?" demanded Kael'thas. He looked like he was about to say more, but his eyes drifted to Sarah and he stopped talking.

"Ah, traitors and a conspiracy! We must root it out!" roared Leoric. "I will join your cause, so long as you never betray me!"

"Well, we wanted to ask for your help" replied Pious. "Unlike WET, we do not force people into our service. I must admit that we will wipe your memories of this place and meeting if you choose to leave, but you will wake up in your lab as if this never happened."


	10. The Rage Awakens

**Chapter 10 – The Rage Awakens**

Memorializing the savagery engaged in by the Weaponized Extraction Team's _Steadfast Samurai_ took up the entire Business Expo Center. A smaller, more intimate ceremony would feature the Heroes and those Blizzard personnel not killed in the attack, mostly eulogizing their colleagues. That these "Heroes" would be feting those who created their entire fictional universes struck some as odd, until everyone remembered the ever-expanding categories of Functional Supernatural Phenomena revealed after the Heroes' appearance. Especially compared to some of the more exotic physics research, they seemed rather pedestrian.

To avoid everything becoming entirely drab, part of the celebration would entail _Heroes of the Storm_ matches. Nobody would admit it, but more than one person (Blizzard and otherwise) had an interest in seeing how the Heroes played themselves, as the lives of these beings were not exactly put on MTV.

"Well, this all seems, terrible…"

Jaina couldn't quite wrap her head around why a ceremony honoring those butchered would then shift to the seemingly-casual notion of playing a videogame.

"If this…this universe lives on" replied Raynor, "then they will never be forgotten."

Sylvanas gave Raynor a single-eye glare, the other obscured by her hair. He'd lifted the line straight from her speech at the beginning of the Hall of Fallen Heroes.

Some remarked on how out-of-character Sylvanas Windrunner seemed, being, dare it be said, _emotional_ and even caring for others. However, others pointed out three factors. First, the Sylvanas Windrunner brought into _Heroes_ was not at the same stage of character development as the current _World of Warcraft_ portrayal (having fewer negative attitudes/traits). Second, in large part stemming from the first point _this_ Sylvanas demonstrated quite the desire to atone for previous actions given her choices upon arriving here. Finally, her exposure to other more genuinely heroic individuals probably had an impact.

Valla's fist slammed into the table on which her borrowed laptop sat. Her team got beaten, _again_. The first few rounds, she either kept her mouth shut or quivered quietly in her chair. This time, the machine jumped.

"This is ridiculous" she hissed. "Will people _stop_ trying to go for the boss on Sky Temple? Even the inhabitants of _this_ world know how foolish that course of action is!"

Jaina put a hand on the Demon Hunter's bare shoulder, trying to calm her down. She'd chosen a sleeveless, though tasteful evening gown from those offered by fashion advisers Down Under. Originally, the designer intended for the garment to be pale blue, but Valla absolutely vetoed that color, instead opting for a fiery orange.

"How can you be calm?" she seethed into Jaina's ear. "The only emotion we should be feeling is anger. Anger at the hellspawn that rained death on innocents. Rage at the failure of our so-called allies to bring these murderers to account. Fury at the fact that this whole event has to happen at all."

"Maybe you should play another match" suggested Li Li.

Valla found Li Li's attitude entirely too cheerful, even though that's how she'd always been (only Brightwing could be more obnoxious). She _wanted_ to twist the pandaren's ears off. But she knew that wasn't what she was supposed to do. She also wasn't supposed to use an auto-attack build against an opposing team filled with stuns (Uther, Butcher).

"I do not care" she breathed. "I will make this work!"

As her team's core imploded, she exploded. Johanna, among others, had noticed two matches ago that Valla's computer mouse had spidering cracks from a grip entirely too tight. Now, the device shattered, driving some of its plastic into her hand while the rest showered over the table.

In a lecture hall after matches ended, two presenters began to speak on how the Strategic Prevention, Extraction, and Ablation Regiment was to demilitarize and focus on "raising up society as a whole" under the new name of the Advanced Experimental Operations Nexus. Valla vaulted onto the stage. She pushed a wooden podium aside, slamming the speaking man onto the ground.

"Faustus" she breathed as her hands, strengthened from both crossbow use and stress-ball crushing, wrapped themselves around one of the presenter's throats. "Who made it? Who?" His compatriot fared little better, held in a vice-like grip between Valla's legs. Her sputtering could be heard from the front row, and a few flecks of spit landed on an unlucky attendee.

Both gurgled, though since Valla insisted on constricting their air supplies neither could vocalize a sufficient answer. The woman blacked out. The man stared into eyes that had become one solid color—an orange that burned hotter than the fires of Hell itself as Valla was tased multiple times by Nova before being dragged off him. It took having both her hands controlled to let him breathe again as even one-handed, she could squeeze tightly enough to collapse a trachea.

Total damage: six computers, two tables, three chairs, a tipped coat rack, and two people who would have ended up in the hospital without Lt. Morales' intervention.

"If I wasn't there, at least one would have suffered irreversible brain damage" opined Morales later. "Yes, that is my full professional opinion."

"Of course they deserved it" said Valla casually after being sent off for evaluation by Kara Grimes hours later. "Nobody is being punished for this crime. The whole organization refuses to accept responsibility for what it has done. I do this not for myself, but for the thousands that died."

Grimes knew this wasn't entirely true, but the personal anger had a very valid basis. After all, Valla had been mentally violated and controlled through a serum that many in the science division had opposed using even with "such stakes" (said WET). Her flippant, bored tone discussing what she'd done made Grimes shudder.

"But surely…"

Grimes woke up in the medical wing.

"No, we don't know where she went. She's gone" said a nurse when the doctor asked about her patient.


	11. Welcome to Real Life

**Chapter 11 – Welcome to Real Life**

The emergence of the Strategic Prevention, Extraction, and Ablation Regiment, now Advanced Experimental Operations Nexus, and the very real _Heroes of the Storm_ characters proved a challenge for typically-sluggish governance around the world. The debate over whether new laws were required was raucous, discourteous, and infused with raw emotion.

On one hand, actions taken by the Weaponized Extraction Teams over Anaheim clearly involved Title 18 of the United States Code, but given that the organization responsible was supranational authorities outside the United States demanded input on the matter as well. Never mind some fringe groups calling for bombing Australia in retaliation for "hosting those crackpots."

Reaction from the Prime Minister was necessarily swift and short. "So you'd punish us for being fooled by and ignorant of what essentially qualifies as magic? I would ask if you lost your mind, but by making suggestions like this, the question has answered itself."

"Markets fell today, as no resolution appears to be forthcoming over the 'hero incident.' Coupled with continuous sliding in oil prices, volatility on the NASDAQ led to a sharp drop…" represented a common refrain across news sources.

In a rare display of bipartisan vigor, the United States rushed a "Supernatural Registration Act" through Congress at breakneck speed—concluding in a 327-108 vote in the House, a 72-28 tally in the Senate, and Presidential signature after only twenty days of debate.

"This legislation is a solid first step toward confronting a newly-emerging aspect of our world that we remained unaware of until recently" read the press release. "It establishes fair controls for those in possession of abilities which defy the explanation of modern science and assurances to the wider public that such individuals will not be permitted to abuse their unique capabilities."

Jaina stewed in her quarters at the Down Under base, surrounded by many other Heroes.

"So we're supposed to wear trackers now? And be monitored directly by disguised agents? What purpose would that serve?"

Raynor could understand Jaina's anger—really, he didn't totally disagree. Still, he also recognized that from the perspective of those who originally inhabited this world, people like them were hard to accept.

"You gotta remember, the folks around these parts are still getting used to the fact that we exist. Top that off with being unkillable, having weapons that never run out of bullets, and abilities capable of mass destruction. I can see why they're scared."

"But we weren't the ones who killed several thousand people!" protested Nova. "Why are we being treated the same way as the ones who burned down a building with civilians inside?"

Raynor briefly considered a dig at Nova's past, specifically implying moral culpability on her part for the actions of her employer but refrained.

"Look, I know what it's like. Mengsk spun everything we did as bad. Feeding people starving because of his misrule was supporting terrorists. If we got shot down and crashed because they chased us away from those people, we were accused of having stolen the food for ourselves!"

"The wearer of a cloak soaked by blood of another's kill may be considered just as guilty" added Sylvanas.

Jaina sighed. She didn't like it, but sometimes, people were called upon to sacrifice their own interests in the pursuit of a greater good. If that meant wearing a "GPS wristband" she would accept it.

Two weeks later, Jaina Proudmoore stood before the United Nations in New York City. She had already given a speech to selected world leaders back when AEON was still SPEAR and had just revealed itself, but now would be the formalization of the Heroes' existence before a world shocked by their emergence.

She awoke dazed in the darkness of a room in which the chest was kept, her wristband destroyed.

Against better judgment, Nova and Johanna faked out their GPS trackers and ditched their tailing agents by swapping in some (FSP-enhanced) cosplayers recruited from the few survivors of BlizzCon 2015. They had a feeling something would go wrong, but nobody could put their finger on what until Jaina's body disintegrated in a flash of blue as a massive bomb detonated beneath her feet.

Nova quickly brought up her rifle (which she was permitted to have under various frameworks-in-progress), using its advanced scope to see through smoke.

"Hostiles coming through the blast point! Take them down!" she yelled.

A flash of yellow as Johanna vanished into the air, followed by a metallic crash and expanding ring of matching color as she slammed down where Jaina and her podium used to be. Bullets from automatic weapons rained onto the Crusader, who shrugged them off.

"Halt!"

All six lay on the ground, stunned by a bouncing shield which returned to Johanna's hand. One stirred, so she put him back out with a solid whack from her flail.

Oddly, the ease with which one Hero disabled six heavily-armed terrorists made the public _more_ concerned.

"This isn't some Marvel movie" opined a political commentator. "We know Tony Stark's a good man because the script says so, even if he doesn't always stay on that path the whole time. Thing is, these so-called Heroes—there's no script! What happens if one of them goes bad? We're supposed to just _trust them_?"

When the conservative talking heads on Fox News agreed with their erstwhile rivals on liberal MSNBC, anyone familiar with US politics knew something was very amiss.


	12. Stop, Everybody, What's That Sound?

**Chapter 12 – Stop, Everybody, What's That Sound?**

Jaina knew that hearing thumps and other strange sounds wasn't good, in her world or this one. Blundering around, she found the door to the chest room and opened it.

Nothing.

Just the usual hallway stretching seemingly endlessly both directions as part of Down Under's labyrinth Functional Supernatural Phenomena storage system.

"Must have been whatever brought me here" she muttered. "I remember a loud noise, so I bet it was an explosive."

This thought jolted her into motion—since she'd just been killed, the responsible party would likely be trying to attack the United Nations. Jaina navigated out of storage, walking briskly to the strategic headquarters buried inside the base.

"We're aware of your…untimely demise" said the base commander. "It appears two of your fellow Heroes disregarded direct orders, hid themselves in the crowd, and moved to take down your attackers. Despite this breach of protocol, I will confess to being grateful that all six terrorists are alive and in custody now."

"I heard something here, in the base, after I reappeared" she continued. "At first I thought it was just an aftershock, but then I realized hearing the same explosion _again_ after I respawned wouldn't make any sense. It had to be something in this place!"

"We're not ignorant, Jaina" replied the commander, somewhat annoyed. "Since the 'stand down' and subsequent refocusing from ablation to research, some of our projects have not entirely gone as we'd hoped. The former Weaponized Extraction Teams aren't the only ones to get in over their heads in excitement to do their jobs…"

"Is it something I could be of assistance with?" she asked. The mage hoped to escape being buried in paperwork and statecraft again.

 _Even the dryads must tire of their eternal watch over the forest_ she thought.

"Possibly. We'll see if the science teams can get things back under control. Part of the problem with you Hero-types is that everyone else feels…inadequate. Every time a problem pops up, one of you could swoop in and solve it, so why bother? Makes people think they aren't useful anymore. If everything explodes, which it might since outsiders would call this yet more science fiction, I'll see about sending you in."

Dr. James-Johnson Arbat knew quickly something was off. The spatial warp factor from his test wormhole was way too high—he was targeting the next room, not another base! Yet, data confirmed his spatial coordinates had been altered to…

"It can't be."

Arbat's fingers flew to no avail—the link between Down Under and Atlantis couldn't be disconnected.

 _It's too early! We have to confirm this technology works before we start using it to salvage the other facility!_

Every indicator went red and alarms began blaring.

"Not again…"

The doctor sighed. This was precisely the thing he'd been sure could never happen again due to advances in technology since the last attempt to work with space-warp transit technology (better known to outside science as wormholes).

"Intersection event, quadrant zero" he droned.

At least that would give them some time (though not much)—the throat of such a portal was mapped precisely with a grid system with zero being exactly halfway between the start and finish. Positive numbers moved toward the origin where the wormhole had been initiated while negative numbers indicated transit toward the destination.

"Seriously?" barked SHARD (Supernatural Helpers And Recovery Division, the "new WET"). "We downsize our security forces, and you drop an Alternate Universe Oscillating Rotational Activity in the second month?"

"It's not my fault" started Arbat before getting cut off.

"So you just happen to decide to connect to Atlantis instead of the actual test room. Something you've only been wanting to do since you got reassigned to Applications of FSP Physics. And even if it wasn't you, those old coots who'd resigned to retiring into obscurity because WET washed out their research were just waiting for an excuse to do this anyway!"

"I didn't…"

Realizing SHARD wasn't buying it, he cut the comm.

"I swear to all that's holy, someone must have messed with something!" Angrily, he began tabbing through every setting for the Field Lattice Generator. None were any different than the settings he'd triple-checked before hitting "CONNECT."

"Someone must have tampered with it at the generator itself" he fumed. "I'm not looking forward to this…"

Arbat's eyes wandered over the copious amount of personal protective equipment he'd have to don before going anywhere near the Field Lattice Generator. All sorts of strange emissions and unexplained happenings had occurred around these devices—the bigger the device, the higher the chance. Of course, this was a cargo-rated FLG with a diameter of five meters, but connecting it one room over had a very small AURORA probability. That it actually linked to a base over 18,000 kilometers away meant such an event was practically unavoidable (hence the desire to test first).


	13. Thin Ice

**Chapter 13 – Thin Ice**

"This is most unjust!" breathed Tyrande Whisperwind upon finding out what, supposedly, SPEAR had done/allowed to happen. She knew that these "Direct Repercussion Investigators" probably had their own agenda, but inasmuch as the casual murder of thousands of people offended her, she fingered them the lesser of two evils at this point.

Kael'thas Sunstrider felt torn, more than Tyrande anyway. On one hand, extremism in defense of one's people found sympathy in his mind, but exactly how these actions could be construed as beneficial wasn't so clear.

"When questioned, they always fall back on the Roman Empire" explained Benedict Pious. "It isn't that they are wrong about the facts—there were good reasons why the Romans fell—it's that they're incorrect in rigidly applying that worldview to the present day, thousands of years later."

Pious took the risk of briefing all four Heroes at once. Having been given as much information as one could get about the fictional backgrounds of each, he knew crafting a single story to entice all four at the same time would be dicey. However, he hadn't survived (and thrived!) within the militaristic WET as a comparative pacifist by being inarticulate.

Thus, he stressed misguided attempts to protect "the people" (Kael'thas), betrayal needing punishment (Leoric), and rash actions causing undeserved deaths requiring a strong response (Tyrande/Thrall). Having talked his way out of far worse, including one conflict that would have seen him drummed out, possibly even executed, he ended up at Atlantis. This series of events led him to being the leader of the Direct Repercussion Investigators—sworn to both protect the world from Functional Supernatural Phenomena but more importantly protect _themselves_ from the flaws seen in SPEAR, especially WET.

"You will be given as much autonomy as possible" he continued. "One of the central flaws of the Weaponized Extraction Teams was that it was _too_ centralized, so the extremism of one person became policy for the whole organization. By permitting individual initiative and encouraging debate, we aim to avoid what led to the horrors of Anaheim."

Thus the embiggering of Tyrande, Thrall, Kael'thas, and Leoric. The latter was to be watched by the former three—his abilities only became more dangerous at a human scale. Still, his dedication to the cause appeared strong for the moment. As a test befitting his undead status, Leoric would be sent in to perform some "adjustments" on a Field Lattice Generator.

"Yes, they are similar to the Horadrim waypoints" said Pious.

"Then how am I to destroy it?" demanded the Skeleton King. "That magic has outlived both demon and angel!"

"These aren't nearly so robust" said Pious, laughing. "Change a few switches and their plan will be thwarted."

Brandon Kiner and his colleague Sarah Ahmason were the closest DRI had to scientists at the moment. Brandon would accompany Leoric and actually supply instructions, his having read a few notes about how FLGs worked on an internal wiki.

"Adjust these settings…" he said as Leoric wraith-walked through several heavy doors. Given an order to not kill, the Skeleton King instead left the few guards he encountered as blubbering messes courtesy of his "drain hope" which restored his own physical form at the expense of the psychological well-being of his target. Or it could just incapacitate people since he wasn't exactly in a battle at the moment.

Brandon's limited understanding of FLG machinery led to Leoric altering key settings by several orders of magnitude more than would be necessary to throw everything out of line.

"It's like someone just came in here, and multiplied half the settings by ten, or ten times ten!" huffed Dr. James-Johnson Arbat upon seeing Leoric's handiwork. He'd dialed in medical reports for guards, none of whom could exactly explain what left them balled up and crying, yet free of any visible physical traumas. One said something about a "big skeleton" but such vague descriptors didn't ring any bells.

[…]

"Well, this is different."

Jaina Proudmoore couldn't recall the last time anyone had seen Sylvanas with her hood down. Sure, it might have flown off as her body flipped end-over-end courtesy an Azmodunk, but outside of matches it was perpetually covering her head. Now, not only had she donned something _other_ than that burgundy cape, but apparently she'd even spent some time on her hair, as it seemed quite a bit more tame than the usual. The closest Jaina could compare to would have been Valla, prior to the Hall of Fallen Heroes.

"I… I don't really know" confessed Sylvanas Windrunner. "I just felt the need to change."

In this respect, the Heroes could relate directly to the "real world"—in-game and out, characters and people sometimes chose to signify changes in personality through changes in appearance. It seemed Sylvanas had taken this route with straightened hair, slightly more modest (though still flattering) clothing, and, dare it be said, an utter lack of odor.

"They weren't kidding" replied Jaina. Even she couldn't be diplomatic about it, so she just spat it out. "You really lost the stench."

"Oh, is that the first thing you noticed?" said Sylvans, suddenly sulky.

"No, no!" cried Jaina. "Well, it was one of several things…"

Without warning, Sylvanas stood, dashed to Jaina and grabbed her mage's staff.

"They also fixed up _this_ " hissed the elf, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a right arm that did not fit with her overall appearance in the slightest—it being smooth grey contrasting with her overall blue skin tone. Jaina couldn't decide if she was hearing things, a small whirr and spidering cracks appeared on her staff near Sylvanas' apparently very strong grip.

"Be careful!" scolded Jaina. "I just polished that!"

Sylvanas chuckled and tossed the slightly-damaged staff back to its owner.

"Why don't you chill out for a bit?"

Jaina forced herself to keep her eyes level rather than rolling them in response to Sylvanas' stealing one of her catchphrases. Sylvanas turned back to a bowl of oatmeal.

"Since when do you eat?"

Jaina sat down opposite, hoping to make conversation.

"The technology—if that's even the right term—these people have is…impressive" replied Sylvanas through a mouthful of food. "Even though it can be used for terrible things, other aspects are actually rather interesting. Like this arm" (she showed off her artificial appendage) "or enabling me to experience taste again."

Unlike Sylvanas, Jim Raynor often stepped out of his "Hero-clothes," as he was now.

"Hey, hey, gals!"

"You're another one of those obnoxious morning people, aren't you?" huffed Sylvanas, still eating.

"You step on a creep tumor this mornin'?" he replied.

For once, Sylvanas remained silent.

"Anyhow, so I've been thinking—this world seems obsessed with technology, not just this magic stuff but the tech they had before we showed up. I wonder if Gazlowe and I could do something with that?"

Jaina turned to Raynor in mock annoyance.

"Oh, so _now_ you want to talk Advancement Ambassador?"

"Look, I'm just in it for the computers" said Gazlowe from much lower, free of his usual robotic attachment. "Dunno how they work, but I want to find out!"

"Okay, you caught me. Sarah was telling me about her rather unconventional approach to veterinary medicine…"

Jaina sighed. On one hand, more paperwork. At the same time, this world could use all the help it could get.


	14. Avenger: Some Assembly Required

**Chapter 14 – Avenger: Some Assembly Required**

Valla, Demon Hunter, felt disappointment bordering on sadness. Even her doctor failed to fully condemn the use of mind-altering substances.

"Then again, that's what a lot of prescriptions are…" she thought. Maybe Dr. Grimes didn't deserve the hospital wing after all. Too late for second thoughts! Besides, it wasn't like she'd actually seriously injured the woman—only a couple contusions and being knocked unconscious.

When the Heroes first arrived, they'd been taken on a short tour of what had been called "Down Under," or the main operations center of the Strategic Prevention, Extraction, and Ablation Regiment. Thus, Valla knew where most of the Functional Supernatural Phenomena were stored—in a mazelike series of corridors with rooms that had only numbers and letters on their doors. She made a guess as to which room her belongings could be found in, assuming unauthorized access would be met with an alarm.

Her eyes fell.

"Well, that's terrible."

One of her crossbows had been completely disassembled down to its components. Of course, the correct room had been down the "Hero Corridor" in alphabetical order, so at least Valla got that part right.

She moved quickly, operating under the belief a silent alarm would have security coming in moments.

Valla recited a mnemonic drilled into her by Josen as she reassembled her weapon. She didn't need it to remember which part went where, of course, being a veteran Demon Hunter with more kills in a year than some would rack up during their entire lives in the order, but did so out of habit.

Had she known exactly why security was for all intents and purposes ignoring her intrusion, she might have been concerned. Instead, Valla was grateful that nobody else got in her way.

Her unique abilities permitted rapid movement that would be hard to catch with conventional film. AEON's base hardly used ordinary cameras for security footage, and any viewing of relevant data-drives would show a hospital-garbed woman dashing about with crossbows. She'd been unable to locate either her preferred red garments or her plate armor, but she'd dodged _gunfire_ before so she wasn't too concerned with where she was going.

"Low Security Confinement" she read. "How deliciously coincidental that someone who caused so much damage would be dubbed a 'no-risk' prisoner…"

Still, she chose deception over a frontal assault. She wanted her target to experience fear, to understand what was coming for him rather than just being wiped from existence in one stroke as she imagined his victims were. Chakrams sought out sources of illumination, plunging the entire area into eerie, red-hued twilight.

"So, I'm sure you're wondering what's going on."

Two guards, only issued basic nightsticks and stun guns due to the nature of their section, cast about frantically trying to find the source of the sultry words.

"When was the last time you enjoyed a woman's company?"

They still couldn't figure out where the speaker was. Each turned to the other, having been the recipient of whispered entreaties that had, _certain_ side effects.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd like that" she taunted, snickering to herself as they groped about in the dark trying to find her. "But unfortunately for you, I like to get a little rough!"

One guard dropped to the floor from an elbow followed by the butt of a crossbow being driven into the back of his neck. His companion spun about, just in time to get caught in a classic Figure Four Headscissors move as Valla landed on top of him. It took only a few seconds to render him unconscious.

She toggled her crossbows to "grapple" mode and sat down behind the guard computer. Quickly, she accessed records available since "L. Bailey's" keycard was still in the reader and thus kept the workstation unlocked.

"Cell A-113. Sulu, George."

She salivated at the thought of finding him. She didn't have to wait long.

THUNK. BAM!

George Sulu jerked awake, unsure why his cell door had swung inward. In the low light, he could barely make out something that seemed to have destroyed the locking mechanism.

"Expanding grappling cable. Imagine what it would do if it was inside your chest cavity."

 _No. Nonononono…_

The throaty, slow delivery of the last line had him quaking. The door, broken latch and all, slammed closed, leaving only a sliver or red emergency lighting through its barred window (if a tiny patch smaller than the side of a tissue box could be called a window).

THUNK. THUNK. BAM!

"Now, we won't be disturbed."

He spoke for the first time. "Why are you here?"

She laughed, the casualness of which scared him still further.

"To have a spot of tea and discuss the latest developments in mind-altering substances…"

The resulting data-files from recordings of Sulu's death were marked "Restricted." Counseling was ordered for those who cleaned up Cell A-113, and many were placed on medical leaves of absence. It was only half-jokingly suggested that Faustus Serum be employed on people who'd suffered the greatest trauma dealing with what was left of George Sulu, which also would have fit in a tissue box.

Though the confinement area did have proper low-light-capable surveillance, Valla had apparently decided to destroy most of it with chakrams after completing her vicious task.

"Lock down this whole facility. Do not let her escape into the outside world!"

A/N: How's _that_ for out-of-control?


	15. Download More RAM

**Chapter 15 – Download More RAM**

"Well, at least the keyboard layout is the same" said Raynor upon being introduced to a "Dell" computer running "Windows 10." It made some sense—what he knew had been designed by people of this world. So point-and-click and a task menu were familiar.

"No, that's not edible!" cautioned one of their tech helpers to Gazlowe, who'd been smelling a stick of what was revealed to the pair as "random-access memory."

"I know what that is!" replied Raynor indignantly. "Ours are just…smaller. Eight gigabytes? What is this, memory for a wristwatch?"

"Well, no, it's meant for a server…"

Raynor rolled his eyes in exasperation. There were _some_ things his home in Koprulu was better at. Education, however (beyond the core worlds), was not one of them, hence his involvement in this "STEAM" thing.

"Art, you want art, maybe Li Li can do that or somethin'" he'd said after having the term explained. "The other stuff—that we can do."

Really, he was just there to make sure Gazlowe didn't blow anything up. The goblin tinker took to "outsider" technology far quicker than anyone else, having dearly wanted to experiment with their friend's computer back when they were still small but not having the opportunity to do so.

Gazlowe held up a 3.5" 4-terabyte hard drive.

"You could store the archives of all of Azeroth on one of these things…"

Raynor was forced to admit the goblin had a point. "Azeroth," being decidedly lower-tech than his own world, still maintained large paper repositories of scrolls, books, and other written words. Gazlowe might have been exaggerating, though estimates from reliable sources said anywhere from 60,000 to 600,000 pages of text could be stored per gigabyte depending on file format. To be entirely fair, Jim Raynor had no idea how much information could be found in the archives of the Kirin Tor, or the repositories of the various Thalassian factions.

Having spent most of the day after his breakfast conversation with Sylvanas working with Jaina and Gazlowe, Raynor took a tram to one of Down Under's many landing pads. A _Manta_ awaited them.

"So I guess they do just fly around in those things" he muttered, not that anyone heard him.

"Before you go, you do have your passports and GPS trackers?" inquired an outprocessor.

Both Heroes flashed their arms, their monitors attached firmly. The devices also contained digital passports encrypted with a 4096-bit key unique to each Hero.

Nova had a hard time controlling herself upon hearing what passed for "high security," guffawing that her best equipment could chew through such defenses in "seconds, maybe a minute."

Raynor and Gazlowe would arrive in time for dinner, then travel to their final destination the next day.

Both teachers and students dodged a gauntlet of protestors around their school the morning that the "Advancement Ambassadors" were scheduled to arrive. Unlike most political gatherings, there were distinct factions within the throngs that blocked entrances. Some were religious in nature, wearing prominent symbols of their faiths. Others wore camouflage and in defiance of local ordinances carried firearms on hips, shoulders, and in hand. A sizable contingent belonged to neither group, but protested alongside them anyway.

"Hey, ho, Blizzard's freaks have got to go!" / "Say no to supers!" / "Send them back where they came from!" / "Who watches the watchers?"

Signs waved, many with pictures of the various Heroes crossed out. Others carried messages that didn't fit neatly into chants, and a few were so dense with text it made the casual observer wonder how passerby were supposed to be able to read it at a distance.

The town police and state National Guard kept order until word arrived that the convoy would soon roll in. Some protestors were arrested as their arm-linking blocked roads—specifically the one which the Advancement Ambassadors would be using. A few snickers were had when three ordinary sedans of various colors pulled in, and out jumped the targets of much ire.

"If they wanna nail us for showing up in some armed motorcade and luxury vehicles, that ain't gonna happen" said Raynor at departure for the school.

It didn't take long for Raynor, Gazlowe, and their small support staff to enter through a side door. They both conspicuously waved their arms at the crowds, showcasing their compliance with the Supernatural Registration Act.

"As if that would stop them!" shouted a man with several large weapons. "The only thing that can put 'em down is this!"

He angrily shook his rifle in the air.

It seemed not everyone watched widely-leaked videos of Jaina's disintegration (and subsequent non-death) at the United Nations.


	16. Profiles in Excess

**Chapter 16 – Profiles in Excess**

Despite their distaste for AEON, the Direct Repercussion Investigators had to keep up appearances. By doing so, they retained access to its facilities without arousing suspicion.

"Reports are coming in!" shouted one middle-aged man enthusiastically. "The wormhole did _not_ perform as expected!"

"Yeah" said a colleague, "but it also created an AURORA."

Some of the jubilation left the room.

"What's an AURORA?" asked Sarah Ahmason.

"Alternate Universe…something" sputtered Brandon Kiner. "Don't remember the whole acronym."

"Alternate Universe Oscillating Rotational Activity" clarified Benedict Pious. "It's what set WET so much against space warp transit technology. The last time any serious work happened, people _died_."

Ahmason and Kiner stared at each other. They were the ones who'd convinced DRI they could, in fact, interfere with the field lattice generators, and who used curiosity as an excuse to read information that was supposed to be access-controlled. Kiner's head drooped. He'd exploited the goodwill feelings that arose after the dissolution of WET and reorganization of SPEAR in ways that might have lethal results? This wasn't what he thought DRI was supposed to be about—quite the opposite in fact! He said as much.

Pious started to try to console the young man, only to be overridden by several enthusiastic members of the organization.

"Given what they did, this is necessary" insisted one. "It is better to pay the price of one life to prevent many more deaths than allow experimentation with this technology to continue!"

"I heard rumblings that dissatisfied members of the former WET teams were conspiring to hand over our technology to the outsiders" added another. "The less they have to give, the better."

Pious became more and more uneasy hearing the schadenfreude bouncing around freely among an organization that was supposed to be above such petty concepts. At a later meeting (from which the relative youngsters were excluded) he received assurances that this was "all just excitement from having something go right" and "this sort of drastic stuff won't be something we all support in the future—but the point had to be made."

Fully aware of the hypocrisy of keeping secrets when one of the big alleged problems with SPEAR was doing exactly that, Pious turned to neutral parties.

"I would not trust them" said Tyrande flatly. "But do not provoke them—observe until further inferences can be made."

"So they got a little _excited_ from dealing a crippling blow to their enemies. So what?" demanded Kael'thas.

"Those who derive too much pleasure from combat may end up in a dark place" cautioned Thrall.

Not wanting to get caught in a melee, verbal or physical, he thanked the Heroes for their advice and left.

[…]

"Deader than a horse with a broken leg" carried currency for many years, though veterinary scientists were working on the issue. And then Sarah Kerrigan showed up. While she'd mostly used her talents on mice, insects, and arachnids previously, at human scale she applied her strange zerg-infused alchemy on much larger creatures.

"These… Well, these _things_ are a form of reverse-commensalism" explained one veterinarian who'd gained access to Kerrigan's work. "What would be the symbiont in a normal relationship gains nothing, exclusively existing for the benefit of its host, after which it dies."

Of course, such engineering never worked on the first try…

"We apologize, ma'am, but we did warn you that there might be unexpected side effects."

A tearful mother, irate father, and bawling child stood by their rented stable-space. His horse knocked a leg doing hurdles. Sarah Kerrigan, unsure of what to do with herself, had been experimenting on various creatures in the Advanced Biological Sciences division. At some point, she had been made aware of various vexing veterinary problems, including horse leg-breaks, and decided to try to solve them through application of unique zerg biology.

This led to her current situation, or rather, those representing her as it was deemed best that the young child not interact with her directly (all bark, no bite, but nightmares lasted for weeks in previous encounters). The living leg-wrap she'd created had patched the horse's leg right up. That was the easy part. The hard part was the headgear—a creature that essentially supplanted its host's brain with the goal of forcing behavior that would be conducive to proper healing. It, too, would wither away once its goal had been achieved, however it left lasting mental impressions that, to put it mildly, ended badly in this case.

Bullseye had, among other things, kicked two stable cleaners, tried to buck his rider of five years out of nowhere despite being a perfectly behaved riding horse previously, and refused to obey commands. He also became extremely withdrawn, refusing to socialize or feed properly. Given aggression and self-destructive tendencies, he would have to be put down.

"It was that…that awful-looking _thing_ you put on his head!" screamed the mother.

"Indeed it was, and, again, we are deeply saddened that this has happened. However, as with all experimental medicine, outcomes are not guaranteed."

"You can't just buy another Bullseye" shouted the father in response to AEON's offered compensation. "It's not like a goldfish…"

"It's all we can do" replied the AEON rep with an air of finality. "Unless, of course, you want her to take another try…"

At this, the father became red-faced and exploded. The mother ran away in tears, and the kid stood quietly behind his rampaging dad.

News coverage was at first flattering, but turned sour in certain outlets. Owning a non-working horse as a suburban/city dweller was something that only a small part of the population in the United States of America could afford or even cared to do. Thus, commentators wondered why AEON was expending resources on this problem when other, more widely-applicable issues existed in veterinary science—like diseases affecting cattle. At least figure out hip dysplasia or the various viruses that plagued both the canine and feline members of family life rather than focusing on #OnePercentProblems!

This didn't even touch on the implications of Sarah Kerrigan's bioengineering, which upset a whole different portion of the public.

"Clearly, she has not mastered this science as she claims" insisted a prominent geneticist. "Even with this borderline-magical power, genetics can be random and subject to things other than the whims of those who think they understand it."

"If one of her creatures were to 'go rogue' as it were, entire ecosystems could be endangered." wrote an editorial in _National Geographic_. "This takes 'invasive life form' to a whole different level."


	17. AURORA

**Chapter 17 – AURORA**

Dr. James-Johnson Arbat documented everything he saw, as if that would cause it to make more sense. He switched his recording equipment to the highest possible resolution, capturing various shapes to enhanced storage.

Spheres! Boxes! Ovoids! They appeared and disappeared seemingly at random. He sighed.

"When I signed up for this, I didn't expect _all_ my childhood books to become reality…"

Just to make sure he wasn't going crazy, Arbat pulled up a copy of _The Boy Who Reversed Himself_ on his tablet.

"Yep, chapter 8—'Its's kind of impossible to imagine what the whole creature would look like, if _slices_ of it are like whole solid blobs.'"

He immediately composed an email to both his colleagues in Applications of FSP Physics and base higher-ups, which read, in part:

" _In conclusion, the AURORA has permitted what I believe to be a creature of higher dimensional stance than us to enter our world. Whether it is hostile or not I cannot determine from these limited observations, but should it decide to become hostile we will have a serious problem."_

He also attached a link to the William Sleator novel from which he drew his conclusions.

" _You might want to read that. It's a children's book, but considering the nature of our work and the observations made available on shared storage, it seems to make the most sense._ "

He hit SEND.

"We're going to need more Heroes" he muttered to himself.

At least there was some good news—whatever came out of the AURORA had collapsed it, which also shut down the wormhole between Down Under and Atlantis. So long as nobody fired up poorly-configured (possibly sabotaged) Field Lattice Generators again, there would also be no more extradimensional incursions.

"Just great" complained Raynor via holocomm in a meeting of the more outsider-involved Heroes. "So you're telling me that while we've been away, the supposed good-guys have gone and let wolves in the gate?"

"I would not be so judgmental" replied Johanna. "It appears this was a simple mistake."

Jaina objected loudly.

"It was deliberate" she fumed. "Arbat's records show that he double-checked his work at every step, including right before he activated this space-warp transit technology. _Someone_ sabotaged the device."

The mage pouted.

"Do you trust this Arbat?" asked Johanna in an unaccusing manner.

"Given what the guys with guns did, I'd take the Stetmanns over the Mengsks."

"And these…" Johanna stopped, unsure what Raynor's analogy meant. He stepped back in.

"I'd trust the guys with test tubes over the guys with rifles."

"Right" she continued. "These science-types want to create _more_ of us. Again. The notes sent over from this Arbat even say it's not clear the new arrival is a threat! Yet we are to react as if it is."

"You of all people, I'm surprised." Raynor couldn't understand why a person whose life had been dedicated to smashing demons would hesitate.

"But unlike the enemies I face, who are absolutely threats without any doubt, this _being_ might be innocent! Whatever it is, it may not have come to this world willingly! We have no idea how this space-warp transit technology works, and…"

"We have a 23-5-82 in progress. Repeat, 23-5-82 in progress."

The Heroes turned to each other with confused stares before Raynor finally blurted it out.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Elsewhere within the sprawling Down Under base, SHARD was getting a full "briefing" in the nature of a 23-5-82 as it happened.

"The boffins think it's a 4-dimensional being, and from what we've seen on surveillance footage, that makes sense. The math types who predicted this sort of stuff could exist beyond our universe didn't really have much of a job to do after the first warp-transit technology tests resulted in people being lost and thus presumed dead. Therefore, our understanding is limited."

The briefer wasn't going to admit their response, indeed the entire application of policy toward 23-5-82s being executed right now, was based on a _children's book_. In a world full of unexplained happenings, those who offered reasonably-supported rationales were king.

A large projector showed several spheres, a box, and some ovoid-shaped _things_ appearing and disappearing as items stored in the most secure portions of Down Under's vaults simply materialized before doors rated to resist nuclear blasts.

"As you can see, whatever it is seems to think it can help itself to our most heavily-guarded items" continued the officer. "Such behavior cannot go unchallenged, and all attempts to communicate have been ignored. We've checked infrared, ultrasonic, subsonic, and examined all frequencies of visible/audible/radio transmissions for patterns in the hopes that its communications might take a form we are not used to. Nothing of note has been found, so command has authorized lethal force if necessary."

"And what good are our weapons going to be against that?"

"Just because parts of it appear and disappear doesn't mean we can't hit what we can still see!"

This failed to rouse disheartened members of SHARD, many of whom were formerly from the Weaponized Extraction Teams (it didn't pay to gut _everyone_ —the corruption that brought WET low wasn't ingrained in all of its members).

A sigh.

"And yes, we've authorized use of the heaviest available weaponry since this _is_ a 23-5-82."

Morale in the room rose considerably.

"At least it's not a 23-5-83" muttered some. "Or a 23-6-0."

A/N: William Sleator was one of my favorite science fiction authors when I was in middle school. His book "The Boy Who Reversed Himself" is the inspiration for this chapter (as you can probably guess by it being used in-universe to figure out what is happening).


	18. Intervention

**Chapter 18 – Intervention**

Sylvanas Windrunner stood up in a huff. She wasn't annoyed about participating in Advancement Ambassador activities so much as she really, really didn't want to put on her "usual" (that the rest of the world recognized) outfit. She'd taken a liking to clothing that came close to matching her skin color—a shade of blue just one jot away from sending Valla off the deep end. The undead elf snickered any time someone accused her of being naked due to this coordination.

"I'm going to get all wet again!" she complained, pulling on her trademark cape. Though her state meant she quite literally did not notice the cold of winter, that didn't stop snow from getting into every nook and cranny. Since Sylvanas had no sensation anywhere, she would miss brushing much of it off, subsequently resulting in it melting all over wherever she was going. Wet clothing never fit right, whether one could feel it or not.

"You should think about happy things, like puppies or rainbows!" insisted Brightwing. Sylvanas only glared.

Shuttling back and forth from Down Under to the United States (home to Blizzard Entertainment, Anaheim, the United Nations, and the strongest outsider power in this world) was easy courtesy _Mantas_ that blasted through the upper atmosphere. What took the outsiders twenty or more hours only meant five hours for an AEON craft.

Of course, had there been no AURORAs with space-warp transit technology, it would have been as simple as walking through a doorway.

"They could just house us under that NORAD place they keep mentioning" she'd griped upon being told of her new assignment. "Then we wouldn't have to be bouncing around everywhere. I hate bouncy."

Brightwing couldn't have seemed more unbothered, however.

"Flight time!"

Again the Heroes arrived at their destination in ordinary-looking vehicles. Due to various laws restricting protests around healthcare facilities (stemming from those who took political concerns in a violent direction) Sylvanas and Brightwing faced less of a gauntlet than Raynor and Gazlowe who had since returned to the main base. That didn't stop someone from waving a sign in Sylvanas' face, to which the elf replied with a gesture that would be familiar to Nova's dive-bombing drone antics.

"You can't do that inside!" hissed one of her support staff. "This is a children's hospital!"

"Yaaaaay!"

Said children reacted in the exact same way as those who'd first met the Heroes at a random California highway rest stop.

One of the Advancement Advisors pulled aside a nurse and doctor.

"Remember, from our experiments the healing power only works on injuries or maladies the body could technically handle on its own with help. If the reason's genetic, there won't be any effect."

"That's why we're starting in the burn ward" replied Dr. Long irritably, as if this reminder was the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. Maybe it was that she hadn't had her coffee yet.

Reams of data had been sent out by AEON to hospitals all over the world—despite its militaristic nature SPEAR had been _very_ interested in Brightwing's healing capabilities. AEON had merely shared what had been learned under a guise of more openness. Now, it would be put to the test in a non-AEON environment for the first time.

Due to its area-of-effect, Brightwing would start in the center of the ward and move about in a prescribed pattern. Hospital staff arranged patients in such a way as those with the most severe burns would receive the most exposure without needing complex patrol routes from the faerie dragon. The rationale for sending Sylvanas was less clear, but she went along with it anyway. She stopped at a pair of beds that held a brother and sister judging by their names.

"Nurse!" she whispered (despite it being day with the patients awake). "What brought these children here?"

"Their family's minivan was hit by a wrong-way drunk driver" replied the nurse ("M. Sagucio" read the name badge). She had a hard time keeping the disgust out of her voice—even after decades in the profession, preventable injuries caused by carelessness like this still made blood boil. "They'd gone to see _Star Wars_ again before it left the theater and were driving home around 10:30 at night when some _asshole_ came careening down the highway, weaved over the centerline, and hit them."

Sylvanas' face tightened. She could now imagine what Valla felt like, though at least in her case it was temporary instead of all-consuming.

"Thankfully, they aren't orphans" continued Sagucio. "Their parents survived, but sustained greater injuries than their kids trying to pull them from the burning car."

This caused the elf to relax. Slightly.

"If I knew where that bastard lived, I'd…"

The nurse stopped. Sylvanas had been having similar thoughts, but squashed them down. Across the ward, Brightwing's patrol was already having an impact. Several children watched in amazement as their more superficial injuries melted away within a half-hour of Brightwing's arrival. At first, winces and cries of pain throughout the ward caused staff to have a minor panic, until they realized why. Healing had gone into overdrive as grafts took to the surrounding area, blisters shrank, and hair regrew on top of scarless skin. It was noted that any natural repairs _before_ Brightwing's arrival that had scarred or healed incompletely were not aided, but anything after she arrived fixed itself up pristinely.

"It's like _Star Wars_!" cried one. "Like when Luke got stuck in that tube after he got attacked by the wampa!"

Indeed, that was probably the easiest comparison—any natural healing in the presence of Brightwing always proceeded extremely quickly with perfect results every time.

After spending several hours entertaining the children (Sylvanas told stories about her less-scary time as an elf, Brightwing was, well, Brightwing) it was time to move to the next ward. Brightwing seemed particularly exhausted, consuming what would normally have been ten adult-sized servings of food from the hospital cafeteria.

"We'll go to the chemo patients next" said Dr. Long. "It's a bit of a step up, but given the _miraculous_ results I just saw, we can't in good conscience keep our patients waiting for this treatment, now can we?"

Unfortunately for the hopes of all present, results were less than stellar. Brightwing flopped to the ground, completely spent, after only thirty minutes in that section.

"It seems that since the main focus of the body at this point is surviving the chemo, that's what her healing reinforces" noted Long. "If the immune system would actually go after the cancer, then maybe we'd see a larger impact."

Brightwing spoke to the doctor for the first time.

"Brightwing not only Hero who has healing powers! You should talk to the medic. She is a good person!"

Long gave the creature a look, as if seeing her properly for the first time. There had been something in the news about a Hero character who'd repaired brain damage from two people who were nearly asphyxiated, but she didn't remember who it was and just assumed it was the one she was working with now. Apparently not.

"Well, that explains it." The hospital administration was _most_ displeased to find out why this "Lieutenant Morales" hadn't been mentioned—her (or rather her equipment's) ability to patch up wounds made Brightwing look like a medieval bloodletter by comparison. AEON was afraid that demand for the medic's abilities would create a firestorm.

In secret, Rosa Morales visited the same hospital several days later. Equipped with nanotechnology meant to deal with radiation weapons, stimpack side-effects, and zerg toxins (not to mention the occasional zealot blade), she put burn victims right in a jiffy. To the amazement of both staff and patients, her medic suit corrected many _genetic_ problems too.

"With all the things that twist DNA in Koprulu, you gotta have some way to untwist it! Else you have zerg in your base!"


	19. No BS

**Chapter 19 – No BS**

Though the United States was still in the grips of winter, an early spring hit Australia. This meant controlled-burning season was once again upon them. Being a ten-foot demon who produced fire in prodigious quantities, Diablo found himself assigned to a bush team that carried out such tasks.

"You are puny!" he roared.

As the monstrous red creature stalked toward the target area (and as ground shakes grew smaller), one firefighter turned to another.

"Is…is he always like that?"

"That's his whole shtick" replied his colleague. "He's the embodiment of all evil."

"So why are we trusting him?" demanded the first. "What if he turns around and kills us all?"

He found a laminated sheet shoved in his face.

"In the event that the Controlled Burning Agent fails to fully cooperate, support will be available within fifteen (15) minutes" read a line underneath Diablo's headshot. Below that was a full-height shot of a half-bald blonde woman in heavy tactical armor.

"Fire Command shall have the authority, at its discretion, to call in Heroic support."

"Weird."

The pair needn't have worried. Diablo did exactly as he was instructed, using his oddly-named "lightning" breath to start a massive burn that would clear out over-accumulations of fuel. Once the fire caught, his services were no longer required and a _Manta_ transport arrived to remove the demon.

"He has not misbehaved or harmed any of you?" demanded the same woman from the photo, now in person and much taller than expected.

"No" replied Fire Command. "He did exactly what you said he would."

Diablo's immense size and inability to die also led to requests for assistance in building demolitions. Due to political considerations, AEON refused to entertain any such inquiries originating from the United States of America, so the first "Diablo Demolition" took place in the Kibera slum within Nairobi. The overall goal was to use AEON aid to improve living conditions there by building homes with proper sanitation, protection from the elements, and lighting. AEON supplied the demolitions and materials, while local businesses (under light anti-corruption supervision and protected by heavy gunships) did the rebuilding.

"We don't want to do everything" said one representative from AEON. "I wouldn't go so far as to say 'If you do things right they won't know you've done anything at all' since it's pretty obvious we brought in a big red devil to smash things. But if we just build while everyone watches, nobody learns."

[…]

Benedict Pious dearly hoped Tyrande Whisperwind had a tight grip on her bowstring. As one of the finest archers in Azeroth (Sylvanas might contest her being dubbed _the_ finest), she had perfect control over her weapon, which she shoved in Pious' face.

"You lied. You lied to us!"

"I told you what I knew" he shot back at Tyrande, somewhat indignant. "I had no idea that some people in this organization were more radical than they let on."

"Then you are a fool as well" added Kael'thas smugly. "Starting a small fire and leaving it unattended near wood tends to lead to a larger one."

"It seems no group can be immune to being corrupted by access to these…magical things" said Thrall thoughtfully. "Though, at the moment, these consequences are not nearly as dire."

A knock.

"Come in."

 _Great. The kids._

Sarah and Brandon tiptoed past the Heroes, who only got aside glances as though they were completely ordinary. Leoric in particular seemed offended by this.

"Uhh…" started Sarah.

"Yeah, um…"

"I'm not going to yell at you" assured Pious, feeling like a dad who caught his children with their hands in the candy jar before dinner.

 _Unless you somehow caused all this_.

"So when I worked with, um, him" (Brandon pointed a shaking finger at Leoric—he was much creepier in close quarters) "I kinda…just told him to push buttons."

"What do you mean?" demanded Pious, more forcefully than he'd intended.

"Well, AURORAs are more likely the bigger the diameter of the space-warp. Longer-distance warps also increase the likelihood of an AURORA. And you can imagine what the multiplier effect would have on a five-meter cargo-rated system pointed to Atlantis…"

That was almost 20,000 kilometers. How different parts of AEON (or even SPEAR) could get away with using different units of measurement on such projects Pious would never be able to understand. Maybe it was the level of sophistication of their computers.

"Also" interrupted Sarah Ahmason, "I heard Kyle Wren boasting in the lunchroom. And it wasn't about his eight-pack either."

 _What else could go wrong?_

"He said that he sabotaged the team trying to talk to the 0-23-5 so they couldn't contact it even if it did respond."

Pious shook his head in amazement.

"We have to stop this!"

To shield himself and his organization (not that he trusted many of the people in DRI anymore), Pious instead spoke through Tyrande, hoping that would lend additional credibility to his argument.

The night elf managed to find Nova in the well-labeled lunchroom.

"Where are the others? I must speak to the people in charge of handling the…the…incursion event at once!" (She'd forgotten the code, but wasn't going to admit such.)

Nova squinted, not aware of any full-size form of Tyrande Whisperwind existing. Despite this, she took Tyrande with her to Down Under's command center.

"You'll have to excuse me if I find this hard to believe."

Dr. Kevin Parker had been recently promoted to running the whole facility as part of the "de-militarization" that saw all WET personnel responsible for events like Anaheim removed from positions of authority. Also, since AEON's focus was to be science, great symbolic value could be had by swapping out a General for a PhD.

"First off, I don't recall hearing anything about creating…"

He looked down at his tablet.

"…Tyrande Whisperwind. Second, whoever did never got any of the proper clearances."

He pronounced her name incorrectly ("Tie-rand") to top it off.

"They wouldn't have" she replied, as if this were a silly thing to say. "They're a bit, shall we say, _rebellious._ Some of them are more determined than others to carry out plans that are…extreme."

Parker took in a deep breath, then nosily let it out.

"You're telling me I have people working within my organization that are actively undermining it? Are they from WET? I'll grant you immunity if you give me everything on them—otherwise, I'm going to submit you as being in league with these saboteurs."

An inbound transmission interrupted the debate.

"He's a liar. We have him here, and he will confess!" bellowed Kyle Wren. The image showed that he and several others were holding Benedict Pious and two younger-looking individuals hostage by wielding MR-8 "Legolas" rifles. A point-blank shot to the head from a weapon such as this would almost certainly be lethal.

"I only confess to not telling the whole truth" said Pious defiantly. "It is true I organized this group, these 'Direct Repercussion Investigators.' It is _also_ true that many of them were far more radical in their anti-WET agenda than I thought. Their radicalization leaked into these two youngsters here…"

"All we did was follow his orders" taunted Wren. He imitated the older man's speech. "We need to ensure none of this ever happens again, so we should break things! Make some of their science go wrong and hope they shelve it!"

"You took a reasonable, if duplicitous course of action to an inappropriate level that has put lives at risk!" retorted Pious. "I never intended for it to go this far!"

POW.

Everyone on the screen slouched, swaying back and forth, before…ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!

"Job's done" reported Nova as she decloaked, allowing far more sway in her hips that was necessary or appropriate while walking into view. She blew a kiss to the camera.

"Aw, this is boring" griped Gazlowe from behind the Ghost. "I only used one explosive…"


	20. Can't Hold It Back Anymore

**Chapter 20 – Can't Hold It Back Anymore**

"Well, this sucks."

Nova stood in Down Under's command center with other Heroes and the base's leadership. The "0-23-5," or higher dimensional being, had quickly tired of "liberating" items from vaults. It seemed to disappear, except why were key supports in vehicle hangers vanishing? Several _Mantas_ were destroyed in this fashion. Security footage showed objects popping into and out of view.

The medical wing handled a small influx of people—some went straight to the morgue from being crushed while others complained of strange tastes in their mouths.

"We need Rosa Morales back here _now!_ " yelled a doctor. Unfortunately, urgent need alone would not return the super-medic from her secretive tour of various hospitals any faster even though a recall order had been sent out. Without space-warp transit technology, they would have to wait several hours. Most victims of these structural collapses would have needed immediate attention from her nanotech to even have a chance.

Dr. Parker felt two things: relief when the beast finally left his base, and abject terror at what it would do wherever else it went.

"Get me the UN Security Council" he ordered. "They need to know about this—it's going to be all over the news anyway. Then get me POTUS so nuclear missiles don't start flying!"

His cellphone buzzed.

"Why are you calling me on this line? Just use the secure telephone!"

"But sir" protested a woman on the other end, "up here it says your line is disconnected!"

"What do you mean it's disconnected?" he exploded. "It's not like someone came into my office… and…"

His words slowed to a stop as he realized his secure comm no longer resided on his desk. Parker's eyes darted around his office to no avail. It was simply gone.

"What the hell is going on?" he shrieked, apparently forgetting that his cellphone was still connected.

"Sir? Would you like me to put you through on this line?"

"I'm sorry Karen. Yes, please. Connect this line."

Dr. Parker took several deep breaths. He suspected others might react the exact same way he did to the situation, but it wouldn't help for him to be yelling with them while trying to explain.

"I can't…it tastes horrible!" protested a patient down in the medical wing. He flat-out refused basic, filtered tap water repeatedly. A nurse rolled her eyes, tasted it for the fifth time, and attempted to force it down her reluctant patient's throat.

In the cafeteria, other staff were trying (and failing) to stop a huge, muscled man from eating every container of mayonnaise he could get his hands on.

"This doesn't make any sense!" yelped one of the cooks. "Pete _hates_ mayo!"

"It's so awesome…" said Pete, shoveling more into his mouth.

"Let's see, so we're going to check on the plates in your left leg…"

Annoyed, the doctor flipped the x-ray of both legs over. The pins were on the wrong side, so it must have been backward. But looking at the top of the prints, now identifying information reversed.

"Why did they pick now to screw up x-rays?" he sighed. "Do it again…"

A second set of x-rays showing the exact same thing came back.

"What is going on down there?" fumed Dr. Ryan. Irritated, he marched his patient down to the x-ray room.

"This time, do it right!" he yelled. Befuddled technicians stared. Ryan _never_ raised his voice at anyone—he was one of the "coolest" medical doctors around Down Under.

"But doctor, we did. What's wrong with the x-rays?"

Seething, Ryan forced words out between clenched teeth.

"Booker DeWitt has a plate and pins in his _left leg_. These keep coming back showing pins in his _right_ leg. Unless he's somehow been reversed or some craziness like that, the pins should be on the left."

"Fine" snapped one of the techs. "You can watch us do it."

Ryan folded his arms, expecting, he supposed, to see some sort of mistake. Instead, it dredged up memories of observing the same procedure while a resident—and they performed every step exactly as was expected. One hyperspeed x-ray later, the technician returned Ryan's look of withering condescension and crossed arms as she handed him another printout. With DeWitt's right leg showing pins.

Ryan's face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance. He'd just watched the x-ray get taken. Nothing had been done incorrectly. Yet the pins in DeWitt's leg were now on the wrong side of his body.

He put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry…" Now his brain froze—he couldn't remember this technician's name. Through her long (possibly overly-so) black hair, he could see a badge—"Elizabeth Comstock."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. It's just… This doesn't make any sense!"

She actually laughed.

"Doc, we work for AEON. Nothing ever makes sense around here!"


	21. You Require More Heroes

**Chapter 21 – You Require More Heroes**

"If you sent us after those goons, why are we being kept here now if the stakes are so much higher?" demanded Nova.

"Well" replied Dr. Parker, "first, you ought to meet some new friends."

Nova's eyes narrowed in annoyance as she slowly turned her head toward the doctor.

"In case you forgot, Tyrande found _me_ and…"

"Not you" snapped Parker. "Everyone who isn't you. I was talking to everyone else in the room."

The four additional Heroes received varying receptions, from welcoming (Tyrande/Thrall) to mild dislike (Kael'thas) leading up to outright suspicion (Leoric).

"Betrayed again!" roared the Skeleton King. "I was told that this DRI was the cause to support! And look what that has gotten me!"

"We… We aren't blaming you" said Jaina slowly. "Pious and these two lab techs here were also fooled by the likes of Kyle Wren."

Privately, several Heroes were amused by Leoric, if only because he'd made a big deal out of finding people "who will never betray me" while being teamed up with a whole group that were notorious backstabbers in their respective universes. And now this.

"What's important now" said Parker loudly enough to quiet all other conversation, "is handling that extradimensional invader. You might also know it as a 0-23-5."

"I'm not sure what's weirder" replied Raynor. "That we're fighting something from another dimension, or that you people in a world that supposedly doesn't know anything about the" (he put up finger-quotes) "'supernatural' have a code for it."

The PhD-turned-base-administrator sighed. "We have a code for virtually anything that could happen, because when you work with functional supernatural phenomena it's hard to find something that isn't possible under the right circumstances."

As if to accentuate his point, Parker turned on a holoscreen showing news from CNN.

"For the first time in history, a United States Navy supercarrier has been _sunk_ by hostile action. The last incident of such a ship receiving significant damage was due to munitions exploding from being exposed to heat, not enemy fire, during the Vietnam War."

The narration stopped as video took over, though there wasn't much to see. Since the carrier _USS George Washington_ sank in the shallow waters of its homeport San Diego Bay, the mighty ship came to rest in waters forty feet deep. Drawing thirty-five to ensure clearance in the harbor, this put the supercarrier's bottom at a depth that would normally be associated with maximum load and was thus technically safe had the hull not been torn asunder.

The US Navy closed off the port and cleared out all civilians. There were, of course, no risks of spontaneous reactor explosions, but that didn't stop people from panicking anyway.

"Unlike in movies there is no risk of a reactor meltdown or explosion" said an Admiral at the facility during a press conference. "The carrier is under control."

 _I wish I could say that for whatever sank it!_

"Wait a minute" demanded Raynor. "How did that _thing_ travel so fast? It took Gazlowe and me five hours to travel from Australia to the United States!"

"According to our understanding of this creature, it has one more dimension of movement than we do."

Parker then proceeded to explain the often-used "folded paper" analogy to explain the idea of what would happen were a dimension of movement to be added. Hero heads nodded in understanding—one did not have to have a degree in advanced theoretical physics to visualize what was going on in this situation.

"Given that it easily defeated a US supercarrier, we ought to be considering other options" finished Parker, talking over a CNN analyst who'd replaced shots of the stricken ship. He muted the holoscreen.

"Well, as Valla was fond of pointing out, and through my own experience, we have no fear of death" suggested Jaina.

"But are there enough of you?"

"If you are going to bring the rest of us to your cause, there are some things you should know" began Johanna. "We'll start with the demons…"

For someone sworn to _fight_ demons, her use of the word lacked its usual venom.

The Heroes' warning boiled down to a very simple concept: While the sixteen (Valla was still missing) of them had been properly socialized and acclimated to this strange world, there would not be time to do so with those rolling off the printer now. Thus, all remaining characters were given a "rating" attempting to estimate how difficult it would be to incorporate them into the team.

At one end were the likes of Artanis, Kharazim, and Greymane who would join up without hesitation or argument. At the other were the demons, Illidan, Abathur, and possibly Murky. Finally, the middle contained wildcards such as Tychus, Rexxar, and Lunara. Though to be entirely fair, Leoric fell in the "demon" category but proved himself mostly reasonable—mainly due to the fact that he had been a good person prior to being corrupted by Lazarus acting on behalf of Diablo. That this could flare up into a point of contention despite Diablo's rather harmless nature here was not unnoticed.

"Zagara _will_ obey me" insisted Kerrigan. "If she fails to do so, I will assert my dominance until she learns her place!"

"Tychus has always been at my side when the chips are down" added Raynor.

"Lunara may be rather violent for a dryad, but she cares for the wilds. Which this creature would likely destroy" continued Tyrande. She turned to address Benedict Pious. "Do not think us foolish, human—I know what you did when you spoke to us. Your story had something for everyone to support, and nothing for anyone to oppose. Nevertheless, we shall need that tactic again, and soon."


	22. All Hands on Deck

**Chapter 22 – All Hands On Deck**

Lunara's eyes cast about, wondering what happened to the forests. Or even the battlegrounds of the Nexus, which were far more green than this…whatever-it-was. Probably a prison, since she couldn't see in the pitch-black.

Suddenly, light! And a huge _something_. Which then grabbed her.

"There are no giants here!" she bellowed. Sarah Ahmason's hand _seemed_ giant on Lunara's scale, though. She kicked and tried to throw spears, but neither released her from the grip of whatever held her lower body. Ahmason was grateful for her heavy gloves.

"This is the last one" said Sarah, carrying a furiously struggling Lunara to a specialized embiggering device. "It only took a week—that was fast!"

She passed Li-Ming, who still could not get over the notion of converting plastic models into living Heroes.

"Who is it this time?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and pointed at a large screen.

"LUNARA" glowed in big green letters, all others above having been crossed out in red due to completion of the Hero associated with each name.

During that week, six more ships were sunk or damaged, complaints of strange tastes spread to all continents, people disappeared for days at a time only to return with no memory of where they'd been, and Dr. Andrew Ryan found himself in high demand, having been the first to document what was now called a "reversal." Dr. James-Johnson Arbat (not to be confused with an MD) was also widely sought-after, so they often appeared together. The latter would explain the mechanics of what was thought to be going on followed by the former's story of finding his patient's pins in the wrong leg.

The world also expressed anger at AEON's limited deployment of its resources. Heavy gunships did drive back some attacks by the invader, but it seemed every time a sphere, box, ovoid, or other shape was destroyed, a new one took its place.

"For all we know, whatever this is just replaces every part we destroy" said Dr. Kevin Parker, now publically speaking as the face of AEON since the "Board" too found itself dissolved as nobody wanted to associate with _anything_ that resembled the old SPEAR. Except for two things.

Repaired in somewhat of a rush (months), _Iron Chancellor_ sat in one of the 350m-long ship bays at the Down Under base. Spare parts helped, but only three of four turrets were functional, fuel capacity was limited, and half the secondary armament didn't work. Truth be told, the ship was considered expendable. This paled in comparison to the re-christened _Hammerstorm_ (previously _Steadfast Samurai_ and _Yamato_ )—equipped as it was with Bose-Einstein condensate coolers for its plasma cannons that let them fire on pretty much full auto. No need for secondary armament now!

For her change of heart, Sirella Martin received command of _Hammerstorm_ , though it would not be her crew aboard. Literally everything would be riding on this ship—the Heroes, the chest, and the entire battle plan. The partially-functioning _Chancellor_ would be a mere escort.

"Now, I dunno what all this fuss is about, we usually win these things, right?" asked Tychus to Raynor during the debate over who would lead the Hero teams. Apparently, this iteration of Tychus did not recall his unfortunate ending on Char. There was also an argument over whether it would be better to have six teams of eight or eight teams of six, with the first proposition winning out. Team leads fell to those who could command loyalty through experience. This meant Raynor, Artanis, Johanna, Greymane, Sylvanas, and Thrall. Each was issued a special communicator connected to both the other team leaders and SHARD command. Some assignments grated, such as placing Kael'thas in Sylvanas' squad or asking Illidan to take orders from "a paladin." Still, given the stakes and strong pressure from the original sixteen, they went along.

"We've just received word that the Eiffel Tower has been destroyed."

"That's it!" barked Martin from the flagship. "We need to get that thing's attention and pull it back here, away from population centers. "Use the quantum warp drive, get us there _now!_ "

Space-warp transit technology would have represented an improvement over these drives, if it could be made to work.

The inaccuracy of quantum warp drives meant _Hammerstorm_ reappeared over Versailles, _Chancellor_ near Saint-Denis. An hour later.

Thankfully, the 0-23-5 wasn't much further away, as it had imploded Big Ben and collapsed Tower Bridge.

"Teams, to your ships!"

 _Hammerstorm_ proceeded to live up to its name, pounding rapidly appearing geometric shapes with its forward plasma cannons. A strange warbling, deep and reverberating, shook the surrounding area as some of the ship's targets exploded. Within seconds, hits registered against shields.

"Good thing we got those upgrades" said Martin, observing that damage was minimal. Explosions over forward guns revealed she'd spoken too soon. It was as though something hit her ship without first being visible. Sections deep inside the armored citadel, including the bridge, were peppered with attacks with no indication that exterior protection had given way.

"Evasive maneuvers!"

Helm did the best they could to avoid strikes that came from directions they could not see. It didn't do much, but the beast's focus was now entirely on _Hammerstorm_ rather than people on the ground. _Chancellor_ attempted to take fire for the command ship, using three functional plasma turrets to attract attention.

Marv Merchants worked within a group operating one of _Chancellor_ 's big guns.

"Twenty degrees port, elevation five degrees! Cycle plasma canisters!"

If they were going to die, they were going to do as much damage as possible first. It beat rotting in a cell, at any rate. His mind snapped back to the day he signed up for this gig.

"Marv Merchants, for participating willingly and knowingly in operations that jeopardized the ignorance the outside world to Functional Supernatural Phenomena, and for displaying an astounding lack of moral fiber, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment with no chance of parole."

Thus went many operatives from the Weaponized Extraction Teams. Those more senior and therefore deemed more culpable were handed the death penalty, though in one case the sentence was classified as "already carried out" since Bokat-Anne Vizsla had been killed by a really, _really_ angry character SPEAR brought to life, then embiggered. Her supervisor, and many at that same level, were set to die until the AURORA.

For "extraordinary service and self-sacrifice," all who volunteered for a post aboard _Iron Chancellor_ would have their records cleared, "posthumously if necessary." Merchants realized that he, too, would probably end up vaporized since it seemed likely _Chancellor_ would be headed on a one-way trip (thus carrying out the sentences handed to the officers now running said ship).

"It's working" came a voice over internal comm. "We're pulling fire. Keep it up!"

 _Chancellor_ turned away, followed by a trail of rapidly changing objects.

"Come on, come on…" Captain Sirella Martin's hands balled into fists, willing the _thing_ to go where she wanted.

Martin hoped the two vessels would present enough of a threat to hold the attention of whatever this 0-23-5 happened to be—its actions against ordinary people could only barely be said to fall short of sadistic now. From the bridge of her ship, she steered a parallel course to _Iron Chancellor_ , far enough behind to give her forward guns room to blast the creature.

News coverage of the event actually turned out positive.

"Although questions continue to swirl over the predecessor SPEAR's actions and some attempts by AEON to improve the world have had less-than-stellar results, it seems this organization is intent on doing the indisputably right thing now" said a CNN anchor. "Whatever their plan is it seems to have worked—the transdimensional terror is no longer destroying Paris or London and is instead pursuing AEON's ships."

Dr. Kevin Parker watched with approval, though he did note that "it would be miracle if we got that 0-23-5 all the way back to Down Under. Make sure both ships are briefed on the Desert Contingency…"

An unauthorized launch demanded his attention, but given everything else Parker told them to "deal with it or ignore it."

A/N: I felt writing out the recruitment scene implied from the last chapter would add unnecessary length to the story, so I left it offscreen and up to the reader to imagine what led to everyone joining up.


	23. Some Like It Hot

**Chapter 23 – Some Like It Hot**

Captain Sirella Martin input commands that would transmit to _Iron Chancellor_ , altering that ship's course to match hers. They would steer the creature directly south, over France and hopefully ending up duking it out above sparsely-populated Algerian desert. For once, the operation went as planned with little collateral damage to any areas the three combatants flew past. _Chancellor_ took the brunt of most attacks, as it appeared far more spheres, ovoids, and rectangles were busy with it than _Hammerstorm_. The second ship did not escape unscathed, however.

"Make a note" she ordered "that this 0-23-5 may have its offensive abilities concentrated forward—if such can be said about a being that has another dimensional axis on us, anyway…"

Upon reaching the predetermined coordinates set by Desert Contingency, _Hammerstorm_ began launching vessels prepped all the way back in London that were held until the Contingency executed, including both transports and gunships. Unfortunately for Martin, she got a good look at extradimensional weaponry as the creature suddenly focused its attention on her.

"We need covering fire" she said, more calmly than she felt. Two of four engines were damaged, limiting both speed and maneuverability. By some miracle, the beast hadn't shot off any propulsion units yet.

 _Iron Chancellor_ swooped between the vulnerable _Hammerstorm_ and its opponent. Though the former _Bismarck_ had taken a severe beating, its design meant its engines suffered no damage. Due to the nature of the deployment, its crew's vocalizations of being determined to go down fighting went unheard since while it could receive orders from _Hammerstorm_ , no transmissions back were permitted.

"Fire everything we have!"

That meant two of four triple turrets and five secondary guns. Everything else was either uncrewed, inoperative, or destroyed during the fight.

 _Iron Chancellor_ 's maneuver bought only a short span of time, but Sirella Martin made full use of it. Two dozen J117B power armor suits and all six _StingRay_ transports (armed versions of the _Manta_ ) managed to lift off without incident.

"Why did someone scratch out the model name on your ship?" asked Nova casually to Raynor before boarding her own _StingRay_ under the command of Greymane. The "a" in "StingRay" had been crudely replaced with an "e," signed by "D. Ridley." Underneath was some kind of stylized colored blue bar, terminating in a silver hilt.

Raynor scoffed.

"You special ops types never got into nose art, did you?"

As his _StingR_ _a_ _ey_ came around, the rebel commander was greeted by the smoldering hulk of _Iron Chancellor_ out his ship's front viewport as it fell from the sky. Raynor gritted his teeth, but such sacrifice plays were not foreign to him—he just hated that it had to happen.

Martin's voice emitted from the ship's audio system.

"Teams, go to ground. Repeat, go to ground and try to attract the 0-23-5's attention. We will bombard it from above."

 _Exploiting the fact that we're effectively immortal, and thinking in three dimensions. Smart!_

Martin let out a huge breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her overrides cut power to _Chancellor'_ s engines so as to permit an orderly crash, rather than having the damaged vessel lose all containment and explode like a bomb.

At least that's what she'd hoped would happen.

Instead, the entire ship blew up before it could reach the ground.

"Ma'am, we detected a power surge inside _Chancellor_ 's reactor before the explosion! It shouldn't have happened! Integrity just…failed!"

Martin's face turned grim.

"You realize that could happen to us as well? This thing, this, this _being_ has the ability to reach inside us like so many fleshy dolls! Our sealed citadel means nothing to it!"

Her eyes walked across the damaged remnants of her bridge, theoretically safe from enemy fire. In the battles over Europe, it had proven to be quite the opposite as explosions tore apart consoles, damaged holodisplays, and injured crew.

 _Either the 0-23-5 is playing with us, or it is only beginning to test its true power against military targets._

"It's getting' crowded in here!" yelled a voice recognized by many. "We've got probably thirty of us stuffed into this armory…"

Background noises could be heard, including someone griping about "that grenade launcher jammed into my shoulder."

Tactical reported over 90% of J117B power armors destroyed, and all _StingRays_ either on the ground or vaporized.

"Engineering is reporting, Captain" cried their representative on the bridge "that they cannot keep us in the air much longer. We've lost all our engines—antigrav systems only."

 _Those aren't meant for sustained flight…_

A loud sigh over the Hero channel.

"We are _not_ prepared."


	24. Vengeance Descends

**Chapter 24 – Vengeance Descends**

Fortunately for those aboard _Hammerstorm_ , helm managed to land the ship. "Land" being a relative term—an objective observer might dub it a "barely controlled crash."

"Shut down the main reactor" barked Captain Martin. "If the 0-23-5 can spontaneously detonate an operating powerplant, let's take that off the table!"

Inside the armory in which the chest and many Heroes were stuffed, a cacophony of noises could be heard as they were squished into close-quarters. Finally, the main hatch was released, allowing many to spill out into a red-hued corridor.

"I assume that jolt means we didn't exactly land normally."

Raynor stood, looking over both a pile of Heroes and those who'd managed to disentangle themselves.

"Can we at least move the spawn point?" demanded Nova. "It's a little tight in here!" She bent down to do exactly that, only to be confronted by a lack of power to the relevant control panel.

MAIN POWER OFFLINE—MANUAL OPERATION ONLY.

The Ghost sighed. "I didn't even get my own game, and yet here we are, this reality acting juuuuuust like one. No quick-time event to pull a Shepard save, either." In the midst of all this, she pouted.

Kerrigan shoved Nova aside, but before she could use her zerg wings to upstage the other woman, a bang followed by a yelp made everyone jump. Kerrigan disappeared in a flash of blue mist as a set of J117B power armor landed on top of her, having punched through several layers of armored deck to do so.

Kerrigan rematerialized, glaring at whatever dared to kill her just now. The new arrival motioned for the rest to follow. Unsure who it was but knowing a battle had to be fought, all present (even the demons) moved as one. The newcomer blasted a path with suit-mounted rocket launchers, greatly enlarging holes that would have bottlenecked the group's ascent otherwise.

A huge fireball over _Hammerstorm_ 's aft turret caused some to wince, moreso than the desert wind or crippling heat of the Sahara.

"Hope we didn't need that" said Raynor, trying to lighten the mood.

The Heroes found themselves surrounded by many of the strange geometric shapes that had plagued two European cities and taken down _Iron Chancellor_.

"This thing is really gettin' on my nerves!" Raynor fired his rifle's biggest, heaviest round.

Unlike the last time she called down snowstorms, these definitely hurt the enemy, not her own side.

"Here we go!"

Several shapes could no longer move, after which every Hero within range unloaded with their attacks. Arrows, bullets, blades, explosives—anything capable of doing damage was hurled at these objects. Many of them broke apart, blew up, or blinked out of existence, yet for every small victory two defeats were had as more of the 0-23-5's uncountable appendages appeared.

"How the hell do we know if we've even hurt this thing?" yelled Raynor.

"If forty soldiers pounding on it isn't going to do it, I have no idea what will" replied Sylvanas. "Ask Anub'arak over there!"

"It took twenty-five of them to kill me" roared the former Nerubian. "We have twice as many!"

Between shots, Nova had to point out something else.

"We're taking casualties. So we don't have forty-eight Heroes pounding the target at once—more like thirty!"

Raynor almost let up the trigger on his rifle. _Fifteen_ Heroes out of action at once?

He stepped around a hole that wasn't there thirty seconds ago. Beneath them, the Heroes noticed their ship began to disintegrate under a combination of their own and the invader's attacks.

Kerrigan blasted dagger eyes at the sky—this was the _third_ time she'd been hit by friendly fire as the one remaining J117B tried to provide fire support from above.

"Someone must have trouble landing my combo" she smirked as her razor wings tore into a sphere.

What was supposed to be six organized teams of mostly eight Heroes each descended into a free-for-all. Tyrande found herself back-to-back with Sylvanas.

"May the goddess bless your hand, Windrunner."

"As if I need help" sniped the undead elf.

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

Tychus blasted away with his minigun. His Drakken got trashed within seconds of being called down, after which twenty or so odd objects sent him back to the chest, itself buried under both armored doors and an increasing amount of debris.

Sonya didn't care that her body was dissolving into blue mist. She landed one last furious blow before reappearing next to Tychus.

"This world is strange."

"I told Jimmy not to play with that Xel'naga artifact-thing! He went and ripped up the space-time continuum!"

Sonya shook her great mane of red hair.

"I'm not even going to pretend I understand that."

The battlefield shifted and changed as _Hammerstorm_ fell apart. Heroes respawning by the chest did not have to travel nearly as far to rejoin the fight as decks above had been blown off. By a quick count, it had gotten to the point where half the Heroes were reappearing at any given time, further diminishing their firepower.

"This isn't working…"

Johanna's deadpan, utterly calm statement of the obvious got her some side-eye from other Heroes.

Several noticed their unknown power-armored helper being completely surrounded and moved to assist, despite not knowing who it was, until it spoke.

"You cannot escape my unending hatred."

That Valla's arms were extended straight away from her torso surprised nobody—she usually did this in matches. Except, in matches she wielded crossbows, not _rifles almost as long as she was tall_. The rapid report of each rifle penetrated even the din of this battle, causing some unaware Heroes to jump in surprise. A confused Cho'Gall fell to his "death" while Valla whirled about, a spinning spitter of death. She cared not that a few stray shots hit Heroes instead.

Nova dropped her own weapon, eyes glued to someone who was apparently even better at fast-reload than she was. Right rifle empty—swing left under, grab magazine, reload while continuing to fire. Repeat two shots later on left.

"You gonna keep starin'?" asked Tychus. "I mean…I guess I could join in…"

Nova actually slapped Tychus for his comment, though it only made a loud "twang" off his power armor.

A strange sound filled the ears and heads of everyone present—the same low-pitched warbling that was heard when _Hammerstorm_ first let loose at full power against the invader. It felt as though the very air shook with these cries, like space itself trembled. The more geometric shapes swarmed Valla, the greater this audible disruption became as she destroyed them with cold efficiency. Normally, the face of a JB117 wearer remained obscured, but in the case of Valla burning red dots could be seen on the otherwise-gold-colored visor.

Valla froze, suddenly aware both MR-8's were completely spent and she had no more magazines anywhere on her person. Without missing a beat, she scooped up a massive Gatling gun that looked like it could have been mounted on a gunship from a fallen J117B she'd almost tripped over. The power armor's servos were the only way she could heft such a thing—indeed, even Sonya probably wouldn't have been able to carry it without assistance.

A low thrum replaced sharp blasts as Valla went to work with her new weapon. The more she attacked, the less the higher-dimensional being focused on her fellow Heroes. They took brutal advantage of this, smashing inattentive or other-focused spheres, boxes, ovoids, and a few that looked like recognizable weapons.

It was these that began peppering Valla's suit with blasts like lightning. Each impact made a small dent and slightly melted the armor around its contact point. These strikes became more rapid, turning the sharp lines of Valla's armored arms to mush.

CLANG. CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG.

The servos in her left arm failed, causing her to drop the front of her still-firing weapon, which sent ordinance into the deck until she realized the problem and let her finger off the trigger.

BAM.

The 0-23-5 succeeded in destroying Valla's ability to carry a vehicle-mounted weapon, which dropped onto her feet. Were she not wearing armor, Valla would have been bellowing in pain as a 50kg weapon assembly tried to hit the deck but found her reinforced boots in the way.

Seeing Valla surrounded even more as if she'd killed nothing and figuring she'd just respawn, Gazlowe tossed his trademark Grav-O-Bomb 3000. It went off, causing the Demon Hunter to disappear from view behind hordes of 4D beast-parts. An arm poked out, reaching for _something_. Gazlowe tossed a whole rack of plasma grenades, which disappeared as if warped into another dimension.

A massive blue explosion followed, revealing most of Valla.

Most, being that she appeared to be sticking out of space, half a torso and a head, now helmetless. No gore, missing legs, or anything—she simply stopped existing past the stomach region. As the Demon Hunter looked down, shock registered on her normally-permanently-enraged face. The few Heroes witnessing this sequence of events only recalled seeing Valla's eyes like this at one other time (regardless of Faustus Serum): the time she'd hugged their mutual friend goodbye. Nova had jokingly placed a bet with Kerrigan that Valla would cry, though that cost her ten dollars and wearing a sign on her rear that said "KERRIGAN RULES" for the rest of the day. This was mainly because nobody had been able to verify whether in fact the Demon Hunter had shed any tears at all (requests were violently rebuffed).

Sylvanas dropped her bow, and it clattered to the ruined, now-cratered deck. Though others might not recognize such an expression, she definitely did: acceptance. Acceptance of what one did, what one was, and the future that led to. As a former banshee and current undead elf who'd led the Forsaken through difficult times, having also been responsible for acts she now regretted, not many Heroes could relate to this feeling. Certainly not the demons, who while _amusing_ ("Fresh meat!") were probably just as nasty as ever otherwise.

Valla's torso began to vanish, up past her breastplate and to her shoulders. Her expression changed one last time—this didn't just leave Sylvanas blinking dumbly. Eyes red with hatred faded to a deceptively gentle blue, before even that was washed aside by an earthy brown.

Lips formed into a serene smile, cheeks taut and gaunt with hatred finally relaxed. Valla's eyes, normally a solid color with very little variation, abruptly regained a natural-colored sclera, iris, and pupil each as the brown retreated to what would qualify as "normal" eye coloration (that is, iris only).

Wind ruffled her blue-black shoulder length hair; now only a head remained.

A second later, the Heroes found themselves staring at nothing, hearing only wind and sand.


	25. New Game Plus

**Chapter 25 – New Game Plus**

Dr. Kevin Parker sent out a message he had been hoping to since the whole 23-5-82 started: all clear. This could only be transmitted once exhaustive verifications took place that the 0-23-5 was indeed gone. To wit: No trace of it or its components could be found, the AURORA was closed, all space-warp transit tech had been powered down, and those responsible for sending this threat packing had been brought in.

How this came to be was a story unto itself.

"This is Rogue Two. Commander Raynor, do you copy?"

Rogue Squadron, crack _StingRay_ pilots, whipped low over the Sahara Desert in search of any Heroes or SHARD personnel. Ordinarily they would have kept to closed channels, but given the circumstances as part of Desert Contingency they were authorized to broadcast openly.

"Queen Sylvanas, do you copy? This is Rogue Two!"

Dunes sped by.

"Captain Martin, do you copy?"

"We stand as one, united in victory!" came a static-filled burst from Hierarch Artanis.

"Nice of you to drop in" added Raynor. "Looks like our original ride got trashed."

 _Original ride? We're the first reinforcements that were sent!_

As Rogue Two touched down, the pilot could see what Raynor spoke of: the smoking ruins of another _StingRay_ atop _Hammerstorm'_ s rear turret.

"We…uh…didn't send that" he clarified.

"Then who did?" demanded Nova.

Only after the Heroes, all forty-seven of them, had been loaded into transports did it begin to dawn on SHARD exactly where that _StingRay_ had come from.

"The unauthorized launch…"

They'd been so busy they'd literally ignored a breach of protocol as one of their ships sped away. "Deal with it or ignore it" said Parker. Compared to a rampaging 0-23-5, it was quite small potatoes and nobody would be punished, especially after it became clear that this "stolen" ship brought much-needed reinforcement to the battle in the desert.

Sirella Martin and survivors from her ship were loaded onto the next wave as W117 suits with cutters and saws tore into the collapsed hulk of _Hammerstorm_.

"No one gets left behind!"

They also retrieved the chest, as pristine as the day it had been taken into custody.

Parker then signed his most controversial order as base commander.

"I, Dr. Kevin Parker, do confer up on all personnel who served with distinction aboard _Iron Chancellor_ at the Battle of the Sahara and made the ultimate sacrifice a full posthumous pardon within the extent of my authority. This applies to all violations of AEON and SHARD protocols, but not the laws of the outsider world over which we have no influence."

For this admittance of non-omnipotence, the "outsider world" quietly shelved charges against predecessor SPEAR and its agents (since many of them would have faced the federal death penalty it would have been pointless anyway). It accepted a restitution package that would take care of those who lost family at Anaheim "for life" with the understanding that doing so waived all future claims on the largest act of terrorism on US soil since 9/11.

The "reversed" were a medical curiosity that unfortunately bore no fruit for the moment. If what was inferred (that they'd been "flipped" in a four-dimensional direction) was true, they'd have to go _back_ to the fourth dimension to "unflip." Given what just happened, there was considerable resistance toward the idea of opening another portal, though putting these people on permanent intravenous diets didn't sound too good either.

With a major threat neutralized, the Heroes found themselves once again "out of work" so to speak. Some of them had pre-existing engagements they returned to after the battle, such as Jaina's diplomacy or Li Li's outreach. The former became the Special Liaison between AEON and the United Nations. The latter worked as an instructor at the newly-founded Advancement Academies, a network of research-oriented schools that sought to pull the outside world in by exposing it to Functional Supernatural Phenomena in a safe, controlled environment.

Malfurion, Tyrande, and Lunara set themselves up as guardians of unspoiled natural areas. It had to be explained to the dryad afterward that while poaching _was_ frowned-upon, it generally bore more fruit to bring said poachers in _alive_.

"This man's body has been flooded with so many poisons and toxins I don't even know where to begin" read an autopsy report of an unfortunate poacher caught by Lunara on her first patrol.

She had proudly led a combined group of AEON and local authorities to a pile of deceased intruders.

"They will think again before they trespass" she'd declared with great relish, only to receive aforementioned lecture. Part of the reason for all the curiosity was a spate of rumors that the Butcher demon lived under the protection of fellow Heroes far from human settlements…

Tyrande and Malfurion were thankfully less violent, though that did not stop the former from setting her owl on those who did not belong before they were rooted by the latter's vines. Still alive, of course.

Continuing the trend of "Heroic consequences," some of Sarah Kerrigan's experiments went missing. She convinced Zagara and Abathur that their new purpose was to hunt these errant zerg down, which they did after some prodding. _National Geographic_ even wrote a begrudgingly-approving editorial regarding this action. Kerrigan herself began work on creatures that would live in hospitals, and although they were not perfect progress was made eradicating hospital-borne infections and toward better disposal of biohazardous waste.

Even AEON found itself somewhat vexed by Rosa Morales' equipment. It would take years of painstaking research (with more than one breakthrough coming from "outsider" researchers at the Advancement Academies), but a working prototype would eventually be crafted.

Sonya and Johanna worked with militaries integrating women into their combat units. Any snide comments were dealt with in a manner that made even hardened drill sergeants wince—but those responsible never opened their mouths in such ways again, and were often reported to have improved attitudes overall. Bama "Hammer" Kowalski sometimes tagged along, though her "thoroughly preposterous, impractical" vehicle never got out of the prototyping stage with outsider militaries despite its demonstrated utility.

Not all Heroes walked the same "serious" career path. Months after the Sahara dust-up, Jaina took a break from her usual to bring snow to a city denied such by shifting climates. This irritated Sylvanas, who had become a minor fashion icon and was going to be walking a runway in said city until Jaina's blizzard cancelled the whole thing.

"I suppose I'll just do archery today instead" she'd huffed. Though her skill surpassed almost all (Tyrande might argue the point), her undead-ness meant she had to learn a few things about regular, non-Heroic living beings who could not just ignore misfired arrows or snapped bowstrings to the face before she could effectively teach them.

In a case of the weird crossing with the wild, Li-Ming avoided trouble by the skin of her teeth, being assigned an outsider celebrity mentor with a checkered past and thus experience dealing with "real life." Her powers made her the "only REAL Wizard" (much to the chagrin of Harry Potter fans), putting her in great demand for everything from parties to demolitions ("Do not become a liability, Nephalem!") That in her world she'd been scorned but now found herself the center of attention was not helpful for a teenager who already had ego issues.

"To quote another character, who hasn't been made real as far as I know" said her mentor, "don't get cocky!"

The newly-incorporated Red Devils Demolition saw Diablo team up with Gazlowe, as the latter's attempt to work with computers failed spectacularly (though thankfully for the students, not explosively so). His protests aside, the goblin was better at destroying things than fixing them.

Whether there would even be a BlizzCon 2017 remained a matter of open debate as 2016 was called off out of respect for the savagery that descended upon the world in 2015. However, cosplayers did their thing whether there were cons on or not, and BlizzCon hardly represented the only entry in this category. Rumor had it that Nova Terra discreetly threw contents by entering herself, though nobody was ever able to prove it.

Blizzard Entertainment did have to hire a good number of employees after "the incident," and invited this wave of newcomers to a dinner to meet most of the Heroes. A few had scheduling conflicts, and Valla was nowhere to be found despite an unveiling of a life-size statue in her honor, replacing Nova's ("Lame!") in the main entryway. The characters were scattered among many tables. One addition to the art team couldn't quite place why, but these Heroes had been part of their dreams for the longest time, as if they'd met before…

A/N: I did not include an "end" story for a Hero if I couldn't think of something fun and original to this universe that I felt fit their character. Plus, there were 48 Heroes when this story's plot was finalized (Cho'Gall counts as one and the cast "froze" as of Li-Ming)…


	26. Postscript

**Postscript**

The story arc is done, but the universe is not closed. That is, I'm not planning on writing anything else at this very moment (March 2016), but unlike certain other projects (the _Fractured_ trilogy) I'm leaving it open that I might write something else in the future.

Such items would likely be one-shot drabbles focusing on individual Heroes and more comedic/lighter in nature.

The Player is, in fact, back but as mentioned previously trying to write dialogue for such a person in a character-driven story without giving any identifying characteristics is close to impossible, so I leave it at that.


End file.
